Defying Logic
by comedienne-quinn
Summary: All his life, Zack has relied on logic. Data. Empirical facts. But then he meets a woman who defies almost everything he thought he knew about the dating world. Zack has rarely been proven wrong. But for once, he's happy to be corrected.
1. There Is No Love At First Sight

**Chapter 1: **There Is No Love at First Sight

When Zack first saw Georgia, he was rushing. He was _always_ rushing. Always trying to get from Point A to Point B so he could do _something_ for _someone_. It was the sort of thing that came with the territory of being the assistant to a world renowned forensic anthropologist. Especially since Dr. Brennan had started working with the F.B.I on some of their murder cases.

Working with Dr. Brennan was an honor he held close to his heart – he still had the letter announcing his acceptance into the program tucked away in a secret place – but it was oftentimes a tiresome ordeal. All the rushing.

Georgia made him stop.

The murder victim had been discovered in a lightly wooded area near a prestigious private school, and Georgia was standing at the crime scene with some of the other faculty members. She was standing with them, but she was different. She wasn't purposefully averting her eyes from the decomposed body hanging in the tree. She wasn't running over to the nearest bush to empty the contents of her stomach at the pungent smell. She wasn't hightailing it back to her car to avoid the whole thing altogether.

No, Georgia was different. She wasn't reacting like any of the others. Instead, she simply stood and stared. Almost _examined_. Not grossed out. Not disgusted. _Observant_.

Long brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Big, blue eyes that were narrowed with intense interest. Delicate, symmetrical features.

He was drawn to her immediately.

And, fortunately for him, she was the person for whom they were headed. The headmaster led Dr. Brennan and Special Agent Seeley Booth directly to her. Zack followed, as obedient and unnoticed as always.

The headmaster was eager to introduce her. Even Zack, who didn't like psychology, recognized that he wanted the attention off of himself and onto another person. If Zack was the kind of person who interpreted a person's actions, he would have said that it was suspicious.

"Dr. Brennan, agent Booth, meet Georgia Regan. She's the one who discovered the body."

Booth stepped forward. Assertive. Dominant. He was the most obvious specimen of an alpha male that Zack had never met.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, F.B.I. This is Doctor Temperance Brennan and her assistant Zack Addy. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions."

Georgia's hand was soft and warm, and she looked right into Zack's eyes when she said that it was nice to meet him. He knew it was a simple social formality to convey politeness and mutual respect, but still he entertained the brief fantasy that she _truly_ meant it. Usually, he didn't do that sort of thing – fantasies were, after all, useless – but he found himself unable to resist this one foray into the realm of the ridiculous.

Their eyes connected for a moment longer than was normal. Zack knew that because Angela once told him to pay attention to eye contact. Too short of a time was considered rude and disrespectful, arrogant. Too long could be considered several things. One of which was sexual interest.

He was certainly interested sexually. And if Angela was correct, Georgia was not entirely adverse to the idea. Of course, there was no way to be sure, and he wasn't certain that Angela's theory on eye contact was even valid, but it didn't stop him from hoping.

Though hopes were as useless as fantasy.

Brennan instructed him to start videotaping, so he did without complaint. But he couldn't help but overhear to the conversation that transpired between Georgia and Booth. Partly because he was standing almost directly beside them, and partly because he was listening intentionally.

"I just thought I'd go for a walk. I was feeling cooped up at the dorm."

"The dorm? You're not a student here?"

Booth's skepticism was understandable. Georgia looked too old to be a high school student. But, of course, Booth had the social awareness not to say such a thing. Zack would have blurted it out. That was one of the many reasons why Zack worked in a lab and Booth worked with the people, he supposed.

"I'm a teacher," Georgia replied, folding her arms across her chest and smiling sadly. "Kind of relatively new here. I teach English, which to these kids is like the most useless subject ever." She laughed self-consciously and continued, "I've been staying here over the break to make sure the girls who don't go home are behaving themselves. The body, it's not one of my girls, is it?"

"The victim is male," Zack said before Dr. Brennan could. Brennan sensed his eagerness and shot him a look. A look that clearly denounced his lack of professionalism. He didn't care. The relieved smile that Georgia shone his way was worth the glare from his mentor.

"Fancy job. How'd you get it? Were you a student here before you started teaching?"

"Me? _God_ no. I'm the daughter of a farmer from Texas and a beautician from Florida. I just got a really good internship and used big, impressive words in my interview."

Booth chuckled. Zack had noticed in his short time working with the older man that Booth liked people who joked at crime scenes. Zack didn't like psychology, but he knew that Booth behaved the way he did because serious emotions like grief or hurt made him feel uncomfortable when the body was right there. Especially in the cases when they didn't know who the victim was, yet. Because bodies didn't feel human to Booth without names. They couldn't. There was something preventing him from seeing them as totally human. Perhaps a fear of deterioration in his own body.

Zack didn't like psychology, but he liked to think that he was pretty good at it.

"You mind telling me why were you walking all the way out here? It's a pretty secluded place. Seems like there'd be safer places to take a morning stroll."

Georgia glanced at the headmaster, who was talking to another faculty member a few feet away.

"I needed to get away," she said pointedly. Booth smirked. Zack smiled.

And he turned back to his work.

Hodgins would most definitely have to hear about _her_.


	2. Hearts Don't Stop For Pretty Girls

**Chapter 2:** Hearts Don't Stop For Pretty Girls

"I met a girl today," he said to Hodgins later. He tried to keep the pride out of his voice, but he wasn't successful. Although if he was being entirely honest with himself, he would have admitted that the smugness wasn't as unintentional as he would have had Hodgins believe.

Zack, after all, had many chances to be smug about intelligence. When it came to facts and empirical data, it was clear that he was superior to his friend. But for once, Zack had the chance to display alpha male overconfidence about possible sexual partnership. Which was a much more socially accepted thing to be smug about for males in his age range.

And he thought, from the small chuckle, that Hodgins understood.

"Oh, yeah? Was she hot?"

Zack came humiliatingly close to answering that it _was_ a warm day and she _had been _wearing a sleeveless top so she was _probably_ at least somewhat warmer than average. Thankfully, he realized in time that the temperature was _not_ what Hodgins was referring to.

When he paid attention to context, deciphering the meanings of words was simple. However most of the time he was more focused on his work, which always took precedence over personal conversations. His absent listening almost always resulted in embarrassing situations. Incredulous laughter from Hodgins or Angela, blank stares from Booth and Dr. Goodman, and a pitying clarification from Dr. Brennan, who only felt bad because she used to be the same way.

"She was beautiful," he said. He didn't think that 'hot' was the right word. It didn't fit. It was too crude. Classless. It implied that she put a degree of effort into her looks, like the plastic peroxide princesses that Hodgins tended to date.

No, Georgia was _beautiful_. Like her name.

"Did you talk to her?"

"Not really. Booth was asking her questions. Though I _did_ get to tell her that the victim was male. She found the body." He paused to remember and thoughtfully mentioned, "and she didn't seem disgusted by it."

"Well, either she's a freak like you or there's a good chance she's our killer."

Zack frowned.

He hoped she was a freak like him.

* * *

"Mr. Addy? There's a woman who says she's here to see you."

Zack turned away from the remains on the table with surprise. He briefly hoped that it was Naomi from paleontology before he realized that security wouldn't need to alert him. And Naomi wouldn't visit.

It was _Georgia_ standing with one of the security officers, a stack of papers in her hands and a sheepish smile on her face. He couldn't think of any logical reason why she would have wanted to see him, but he was certainly not unhappy about the circumstances.

"You've got to be kidding me," Hodgins muttered. His disbelief was clear, even to Zack.

Zack grinned at him and moved across the platform to the stairs. She stood at the bottom, looking up at him with her wide eyes and her beautiful smile. He felt his mouth go dry.

"What are you doing here?" he asked finally. Not unkindly.

"I looked through some of the creative writing assignments that I collected from the kids before break, and I found the ones that Nester wrote," she said sadly. "I still can't believe that it was Nester up there. I just thought maybe these would help prove that it wasn't a suicide. Prove that he wasn't depressed."

Zack thought that it was a very nice thing of her to do, coming all the way out here to give him some papers. He wasn't the right person to give them to, of course, but that didn't matter much. Not to him.

"Sweetie, maybe _I _should deal with this," Angela said, tentatively coming up behind him. She didn't know about Georgia. She couldn't have understood that Zack wanted to show Hodgins that pretty girls could like _him_, too. But still Zack was a little annoyed.

"No," he replied carefully. "I can handle it." He turned back to Georgia. "You should probably give that stuff to Agent Booth. That's what he does."

"Booth! That was his name! I couldn't remember. I was so nervous at the crime scene, I wasn't paying attention to _anything_. That's why I came here. I could only remember you.

Angela made a humming noise behind his back and gave Hodgins a look. Zack didn't see it, but he knew that it had happened. He had been friends with them long enough to know when they were judging him.

"Zack, sweetie, maybe you should call Booth and take Georgia to wait in Brennan's office until she and Booth get back." Angela's soothing tone indicated that she had realized Zack didn't know what he was supposed to do in this situation. "Instead of making her drive all the way to the F.B.I. offices. Hodgins and I can handle things while you wait with her."

Zack looked at Angela. He didn't think she was making fun of him. He thought maybe she was even trying to help.

"Okay," he said. He wasn't totally sure that he trusted her, but he decided to try it her way. She knew more about women than he did. He turned back to Georgia. "Would you mind waiting?"

"Not at all."

Georgia's smile was bright and pretty. Zack thought for a second that his heart had stopped.


	3. Decomposing Bodies are Disgusting

**Chapter 3:** Decomposing Bodies are Disgusting to Anyone Without A Doctorate

"So what do you guys do here?"

Georgia was walking around Dr. Brennan's office, examining the artifacts that decorated the shelves and the paintings that adorned the walls. Dr. Brennan was in possession of an intriguing collection of specimens from all over the world. Zack himself only knew the origins of half of them. He never got tired of hearing Dr. Brennan tell the stories of how they had come into her possession, but he knew that it was more than likely that Georgia wouldn't be interested. It was a wonder that she seemed interested in anything about Zack's life at all.

He explained his occupation with slight reluctance. The odds of her deciding that he was weird after hearing what he did for a living were astronomical. All based on personal experience, of course.

"We identify human remains which have been decomposed or burned. Usually to solve murders."

"So bodies like Nester's that are too far gone to be identified normally?"

She wasn't disgusted. She wasn't looking at him like he was some kind of bizarre and alien creature for being able to do this job and still maintain a shred of humanity under it all. And she certainly wasn't doubting that he _had_ a shred of humanity. Unlike most people.

He answered in a tone that belied his confusion.

"Precisely."

"So, how?"

"What?"

"How do you do it? Identifying the bodies. What do you look for? I mean, you told me _right_ _away_ that it was a male in that tree. How did you do that? You said it so quickly, you barely even had time to _look_ at him. It was amazing."

Zack wished that Angela was in the room so she could explain to him why Georgia was interested. He couldn't understand on his own. Georgia had a good job as a teacher at a private high school. She was inordinately beautiful. She dressed like Angela did, which to Zack meant that she was _normal_.

Why would a normal young woman be interested in what he had to say about bones? No one ever was. There had to be some rational explanation, but although he was a genius and although he could work through complicated mathematical equations like they were simple third-grade addition quizzes, he could not understand why the woman standing in front of him was seemingly _interested_ in what he was talking about.

But since Angela wasn't in the room, and since he thought that it might be rude of him to just get up and leave the room to find her, he simply stated the answer.

"Doctor Brennan identifies a person through their skeletal remains. She can determine age, sex, and can identify any injuries or diseases that have affected the bone and would show up on medical records. That makes it easier for us to identify who they were."

He usually didn't speak so plainly. Not even to _normal_ people. He supposed that some part of him enjoyed being misunderstood by people. Booth would glare at him, Angela would throw up her hands in exasperation, and his parents would ruffle his hair and crow about their little genius. He enjoyed that feeling of being _smarter _than everyone else. But with Georgia, it was different. He didn't want her to think that he was highlighting his own intelligence as a way to diminish hers. He didn't want her to feel bad about the fact that he was a genius and she was not. So he forced himself to be aware of the fact that his usual vocabulary was not appropriate for the situation.

Georgia smiled and said, "wow. That's kind of cool."

Not many things genuinely surprised Zack. He was surprised when Angela was so overcome with affection for him because of his cluelessness about real life that she hugged him fiercely. He was surprised when Hodgins managed to beat him at anything involving intelligence. He was surprised when he understood a reference to pop culture that Booth or Angela or Hodgins made and was able to accurately comment on it. But that was about it. And he could officially add Georgia's increased interest in him after he dropped the bombshell about his work being with decomposing corpses to the list.

"Really?" he asked skeptically. Georgia seemed to misunderstand his tone, because she hastened to reply.

"Oh, I don't mean it like that. God, you must think I'm some kind of freak. I mean, it's horrible that people have to die for you to do your work, but I just think that it's cool that you're able to do something like that, to be able to give them their identities back after some sicko works so hard to take it away by burning them or whatever. That's all."

Zack smiled. She talked at lightning speed when she was nervous. Just like him.

"I wasn't implying that you are a…freak. It _is_ an interesting field and I much enjoy my work with Dr. Brennan. But most people who don't work here think it's disgusting."

"I don't think things are disgusting," Georgia replied sheepishly. She moved to sit on the couch beside Zack, and the fabric from her yellow sundress brushed his leg. "I think they're _interesting_. Most people think I'm weird for that."

"I don't think you're weird."

Zack felt _something_ which seemed to be originating in the pit of his stomach that he wasn't sure how to identify. It felt a little like sadness, but it was different. It was lighter. It may have been the beginnings of hope. He wasn't good at putting words to feelings so abstract. Sad was sad, and happy was happy. Sometimes, he couldn't even identify _fear_. It was always a shock to realize that even _he_ wasn't above irrational emotions at times.

He wasn't sure how to respond to his feelings, so he just smiled. Georgia smiled back and spoke.

"Do people tend to think you're weird?"

Zack nodded vigorously. A more accurate assessment had never been made about him.

"Most people don't understand me."

"Why? Because you're super smart?"

"I'm a genius."

He didn't mean to brag. It was just the truth. His I.Q. was far above that of a normal person's.

Surprisingly, Georgia understood that he wasn't trying to be obnoxious. People usually didn't.

"I bet that makes it kind of hard to make friends, huh?"

"I have friends here, but in general, yes. It is fairly difficult to connect with people."

Georgia nodded like she understood.

"People don't like feeling stupid," she said thoughtfully.

Zack said, "I wouldn't know."

Georgia laughed and Zack smiled. There was a short silence following her laughter, but it wasn't uncomfortable like silences in the lab tended to be. Silences at work usually meant that Zack had said something wrong, or had done something strange, or had taken a statement too literally and was being judged by everyone. He hated silence.

But he didn't hate this one. This one was more like the silences at the dinner table growing up in Michigan while everyone was busy eating and enjoying each others' company.

Eventually, Georgia broke it by stating, "I'm quitting my job at the school."

Zack was surprised that she would confide in him about something personal. People found him odd and alienating. They usually didn't tell him about their lives because he never knew what to say. And what _was_ one expected to say to a statement such as that? Congratulations? I'm sorry? Were you supposed to ask why? He didn't know.

"Oh."

"I just…the way they want me to teach those kids, the way those kids live. It's just not for me. And knowing that one of those overindulged little brats killed Nester, who was such a sweet boy, is just too much for me to deal with. I don't think I can look at any of them the same way again."

She wiped her eyes. He hoped that she wasn't crying. He hurried to say something. Anything.

"You were friends with Nester?"

It seemed like the thing to ask.

"Yeah. I guess you could say that. As much as a teacher and student _can_ be friends."

"I'm Doctor Brennan's student."

"Well then, Nester and I were sort of like that. No one wanted to hang out with him because he was _different_, so I started talking to him after class as often as possible. I always like the kids who no one else pays attention to. More often than not, they're the ones who have the most to offer."

He wanted to say it: _no one pays much attention to me_.

But he didn't. It didn't seem right.

So he just smiled.


	4. Zack Can’t Talk to Women

**Chapter 4:** Zack Can't Talk to Women

Georgia called several hours later to tell him that their talk had given her the courage she needed to tender her resignation at the school. He responded in what he hoped was an appropriate manner.

"Good for you."

He said it as supportively as he knew how. With 'oompf'.

Angela – who had instructed him on oompfing just a few moments before – stood in front of him and nodded with a calm smile that told him he was doing a good job.

"I just wanted to say thank you. The way you actually _listened_ to me. I mean, I know you don't do well with people. _Not_ that you didn't do well with _me_, but I'm different and, and you're a _genius_, so I think that's how I got the courage from you…" She stopped and quietly said. "Oh, God. You know, I planned this all out. Just say thank you and hang up. But I just can't stop talking when I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

Zack was afraid that it was something he had done or said. Maybe she _did_ think he was weird, after all. But Angela's smile lit up and Zack knew that he was wrong. He just didn't know what was _right_.

"I don't like making telephone calls. I know it's stupid, but my voice sounds so weird on answering machines so I can only assume that it sounds like that on the phone."

"I think your voice sounds fine."

She sounded like she was smiling when she said, "thanks." Then, she sighed. "Well, I guess I should get going. But first...look, I know this is kind of a lot to ask, but would you mind just calling me and telling me when you find out who the killer is? I'd rather hear it from you than have to hear it from a newspaper headline."

Angela's smile grew wider. Zack hadn't realized that she could hear the conversation. He backed away, glaring at her. But he wasn't really mad. He hoped that she could tell.

"Okay," he said. "I will."

"Thank you _so_ much."

After several more formalities, he hung up his phone. Angela made a noise that could only be described as a squeal.

"Thank God you managed to pull that off," she said.

"I know. My throat is quite dry now."

Angela laughed.

"So this Georgia girl, she seems really nice. And she seems to actually _like _you."

"I know. I don't understand it either."

Angela sighed.

"Oh, sweetie. I didn't mean it like that."

"But I did. Girls don't like me. Naomi doesn't like me."

"Naomi is just one woman."

"One of many, you mean."

Angela sighed and put her hand on his shoulder.

"I heard her ask you to tell her who killed Nester. Don't tell her on the phone. We'll probably all be going to Wong Foo's later. Invite her along. Trust me, it's the best move. It'll make her think you're sensitive and gentlemanly. Plus, you'll get to see her again."

Zack, as always, just nodded. He knew that arguing with Angela about relationships and the forming of them was about as effective as it would be for Angela to argue with him about quantum mechanics. Instead, he just sighed.

"She's beautiful, Angela."

He didn't mean that she was just physically appealing. She was, certainly, but he meant it a little deeper than that. He just wished he could find the words to describe _exactly_ what he meant. Angela would have known how to do that. She could pinpoint her emotions just like Zack could pinpoint one murder weapon out of thousands of possibilities. Angela would have known what to say. But he thought that she understood what he meant.

"I know, sweetie," she said. And then, "I'm proud of you."

She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly again and then started to walk back towards her office.

"Angela?"

She turned and asked, "yeah?"

"I didn't give Georgia my number."

Angela smiled.

"You're welcome."


	5. Sex Matters

**Review, review, review! Please :]**

**Chapter 5:** Sex Matters

Sitting at Wong Foo's later, Zack and Angela together broke the news that the killers were two of her students who murdered Nester when he threatened to inform the headmaster about their blackmail-sex scheme. For a long while afterwards, Georgia was silent. Finally, she spoke.

"Tucker and Camden? God, I should have known. They're both such slimy kids."

Zack frowned.

"Slimy?"

Lightning quick, Angela swooped in to save him by saying, "she doesn't mean literally, sweetie."

Zack glanced at her thankfully and tried his hardest to ignore the way his heart seemed to be beating far too quickly. "You're saying that in hindsight, you do not find it hard to believe that they were capable of committing murder?"

"Yeah, that's what I meant," Georgia replied with a laugh. But unlike the laugh that Booth barked out whenever Zack attempted to engage him in conversation, it wasn't mean. She wasn't mocking him. She wasn't judging him. Her eyes were sparkling. Then, "you tend to take things _really_ literally, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"It's his handicap," Angela said pointedly. "God wanted to make sure that he couldn't take over the world."

Zack frowned and said, "I don't believe in God."It was his way of saying that he was slightly offended by the comment.

But Georgia made him forget all about that. She smiled at him and said, "me neither."

"Match made in heaven," Angela put in ironically. Georgia laughed again.

Zack wanted her to keep laughing forever. Watching her laugh gave him the same contented feeling that solving a murder did. Like he had done something good. Like he had done something _great_.

When the laughter subsided, Zack decided that it was a good time to get back to the problem that had been plaguing him all day: Naomi. He knew that Angela was reluctant to help him because she wasn't a 'guy', but he thought that maybe she would feel more comfortable discussing it with Georgia around. He found that workplace friends were more open with one another when they were in a group discussion. And although Georgia was not quite a friend, he had a feeling that she could be, to both Angela _and _to Zack. So he took a leap, which was something that he almost never did.

"I still don't know what to do about Naomi."

Angela sighed.

"Zack," she said, as if he had stated something horrible.

But he couldn't think of anything that he said that was wrong.

"Who's Naomi?" Georgia asked. Her voice was low, conspiratorial.

_See_, he wanted to say to Angela, _she doesn't mind._

"Naomi is this girl Zack slept with once," Angela said, because Zack couldn't figure out how to say what he wanted to say. "She hasn't called him for a month, and today she told him to take a hint. He doesn't know what to do about it."

"Apparently, I am not very good at lovemaking," Zack said thoughtfully. Angela sighed again.

"Oh, sweetie."

He didn't understand the look she was giving him. She would glance at him, then at Georgia, and then at him again. And she was moving her head around in a way that seemed to indicate she wanted him to notice something about Georgia. But he could not see anything about her that was different. She was beautiful, yes, but nothing appeared to be wrong with her and he didn't understand what Angela wanted him to see.

"What?" he asked finally. Georgia looked at Angela. Angela quickly stopped making the face and the head movements and sighed again.

"Look, Zack, when you're with someone, the gymnastics aren't what matter. It's who you are. It's in your intentions and how much you care about the other person."

But the way she sighed and the way she looked like she was sick of this conversation already indicated that she wasn't being sincere.

"If you don't want to help me, just say so."

He may not have been the most socially adept person, but even he could recognize a social cue so obvious. Or so he thought.

"All right," Angela said with a sigh. "I'm going to let you in on a secret. This is a female secret. Go to Naomi and tell her you don't know anything about lovemaking. Sex, yeah. Lovemaking, you're a blank slate. You'll do anything she wants if she just introduces you to the secrets of love. She'll be more interested in that than if you were the most imaginative lover on the planet."

"That's totally counter intuitive," Zack argued, but Georgia shook her head and took a sip of her drink.

"Actually, genius, I agree with Angela. If someone said that to me, I'd be butter. Most of my lovers have been inexperienced, anyway. I don't think it's a problem. It makes it even more fun. I love learning new things, sure, but I love _teaching_ new things just as much."

Zack frowned thoughtfully and Angela nodded with a certain smugness.

"Just do it, Z-man," she said. "Reap the benefits of my sexual wisdom."

Zack's nod was reluctant, but accepting. He thought he would try it. Angela had more sex than anyone he had ever met.

Georgia stood up and her smile included both of them.

"You guys, thank you so much for helping me through this whole thing today. Maybe I'll see you around sometime, but I should go now. The job search commences tomorrow."

Angela stood up to offer her a hug. Zack wasn't sure if that was appropriate, so he simply sat awkwardly and waved.

When he watched her walk away, he felt a strangely sad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. And it was only then that he realized he had made a mistake. He was shocked, and turned to Angela.

"I think I liked her," he said blankly. Angela sighed.

"Sweetie, your sexual inexperience has nothing to do with it. Things like _this_ are why you have no luck with the ladies."


	6. Professional Distance Can Be Achieved

**Thanks to people who read, but please review! I'd love to know what you think.**

**Chapter 6:** Professional Distance Can Be Achieved in Every Case

The bones of a boy were spread out on the table behind him. A _boy_. A young boy, weak and small.

Zack always tried not to think about the victims of the crimes that he helped to solve. It was easier to work on them without referring to them by name, without knowing who they used to be before the death set in.

They were dead. It was his job to identify who they used to be, how they died, and any other anomalies that would help solve the crime. That was all that mattered.

But the boy was different. Working on a child so tiny and knowing that the killer had actually _abused_ him before committing the murder, it was almost too much to bear. He couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop imagining the various scenarios that would lead to the boy's death. He never did that. He was always able to control himself, to control his thoughts and his emotions. He would find the most rational course of action and he would take it. In cases like this, the most rational course of action was to ignore the death and destruction. But this time, it was impossible.

Impossible.

He stared at the boiling water in front of him. He had to clean the bones for Dr. Brennan. He had to help her solve the case. But he could only stare. He knew that he should do something, but he found himself unable to move.

He was almost unable to breathe.

"Something wrong?" Dr. Brennan asked. The question seemed gentler than her usual queries, as if she knew. As if she somehow understood.

Zack had always looked to his professor as a pillar of strength. She was a strong, wildly intelligent, and successful woman. She was the type of person that he should aspire to be. And if she could understand his discomfort, then maybe he had no reason to be as self-conscious about it as he unfortunately was.

"These are the smallest remains I've ever worked on."

He looked to her for advice. He _always_ looked to her for advice.

"That's a valid observation, Zack, but it's not helpful to the investigation."

As he always did when Dr. Brennan said something unintentionally sharp, he felt the sting of her words. He never blushed, but he knew that if he did, he would be blushing at the intense embarrassment he suddenly felt. She didn't _mean_ to hurt him, he knew. But that didn't change the fact that he was hurt.

He knew that as a rational individual, he should be able to push his feelings to the back of his mind. He knew that he should be able to ignore the things he _felt_ in favor of the empirical truth.

But even as the rational being that he was, he couldn't quite believe that.

And apparently neither could Dr. Brennan. She looked at him for a long moment and finally said, "I was at Waco. Branch Davidian compound. I helped identify children who had been killed in the fire. Seventeen of them."

He tried to think of what that could mean.

"So, you're saying I will get used to it?"

It was a guess, and Brennan's shake of the head told him that he was mistaken.

"No," she said sadly. "I'm saying you will never get used to it. We're primates, social creatures. It's coded into our DNA to protect our young even from each other."

"So, I'm always going to feel terrible?"

"What helps me is to pull back emotionally. Just, put your heart in a box."

"I am not good with metaphor, Dr. Brennan."

Dr. Brennan said, "focus on the details."

Zack heaved a relived sigh. Focus on the details. It was possible.

"Details. Yeah, I can do that."

And just like that, he felt better.

They found the murderer later that day. They solved the crime. They put a bad man in prison. But the warm feeling of satisfaction that always filled Zack after the conclusion of a case was dimmer, this time. Something _still_ felt wrong.

For the first time, he was still focused on the fact that the victim was _just a boy_. He pondered the saddening reality that Charlie would never have the chance to fall in love, would never have a job, would never have a child of his own, would never do _anything_ that human beings were socially expected to do.

It almost made Zack want to _really_ live. His solitary existence was usually enough for him. He got his social interaction through phone calls with his family and through the friendships he had formed in the workplace. He found most of his pleasure through work, through spending hours bent over fragmented skeletons. He liked to put them back together. Liked to see the puzzle whole again. But he felt like tonight, that wouldn't be enough.

He took the jawbone that Hodgins handed him. Slowly, reverently, he carried it to the casket where the rest of the skeleton was assembled in the closest possible representation of the human form. He drew in a shaky breath and laid the bone in its final resting place.

The puzzle was complete. But the aching feeling in his gut did not dissipate.

For a brief moment, he thought he was going to be sick.

He fought it down.

Rationally, he understood that his dimmed feeling of satisfaction was undoubtedly a result of Charlie's age. But it was also a result of the fact that putting his heart in a box, as Dr. Brennan called the action of avoiding emotional attachment, was pulling him further and further away from real human nature. And, as Hodgins often told him, it was drawing him ever closer to becoming a full-fledged robot. As much as he didn't care about being a normal person, he didn't want to become someone who couldn't feel anything at all.

He was close enough already for it to be a rational fear.

Analytical science and logic were the only things he knew. He didn't know how to be a 'real' person. He didn't know how he was supposed to act, supposed to see things. He just knew that he didn't want to be the way he was. Watching Angela's eyes fill with tears when she looked at the remains of a victim, or watching that nauseas expression flit across Booth's face quickly when he thought no one was looking, should have been enough to show him that emotional people had it harder than rational people. But for some reason, that made him want to _feel_ all the more. He wanted to care as much about human life as they did.

He wasn't sure _why_ he wanted to so often feel emotions like hope and despair, but he knew that he needed help.

The men carrying the casket left him standing at the table, and he looked up at the picture of Charlie's x-ray. The victim's x-ray. It was easier to say 'the victim', but was it right?

Maybe he didn't _want_ to put his heart in a box, but Dr. Brennan was right about one thing: it was easier to deal with the details. At least until the case was solved.

He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the short list of contacts until he got to G.

Georgia.

He was not brave, and he was not strong. He was simply determined. His finger flinchingly pressed the green 'call' button, and he waited.

Arms shaking, eyes closing, opening, closing. Chest rising and falling. Heart thudding.

"Zack!"

She knew who it was. That meant she had his name in her phone, as well. A feeling of intense relief washed over him.

"Hi, Georgia," he said. The informal greeting felt awkward on his lips. He forced himself to calm down and bravely said, "would you like to get a coffee? There's a café near the Jeffersonian."

She laughed.

"Zack, I'd _love_ to."


	7. Normal Women Like Normal Men

**Thank you to those of you who reviewed 3 **

**Chapter 7:** Normal Women Like Normal Men

He stared across the table at her, his eyes bright and his breathing light. He was less nervous than he thought he would be. He felt good, _almost _confident. After the case with the dead boy, he felt as if he could handle anything.

"I'm so glad you called," she said quietly. Her thin, graceful hands were wrapped around her coffee mug. She inhaled heavily, savoring the warmth. Pink hands slowly returning to their natural color.

It was cold outside. He had hardly noticed. He had been too busy looking forward to seeing her again.

He supposed that was a bit childish and silly, so he didn't speak the thought aloud. Maybe it would seem romantic at a later date – if they were to have one. He was uncomfortable with making the assumption.

"I'm glad I called as well," Zack replied. He wanted to say something else. "Today was… difficult."

That was what people did on dates, wasn't it? Talked about their days? But was this meeting a date? Or was it simply a friendly conversation over coffee? Did she think he was just checking up on her to see how she was doing? Or did she think that he was checking up on her because he was romantically or sexually interested in her?

He didn't know. And he wasn't sure how one would go about finding out that sort of thing.

He wished that Angela was with him. Angela would know the answers to all of his questions. Of course, if Angela were with him then it would allow him to determine on his own that the date was not, in fact, a date.

Simply put, there was no easy solution. There never was when it came to human interaction.

But regardless of her intentions, Georgia seemed receptive to his chosen topic of conversation. She leaned back in her booth and smiled easily at him.

"Why was today difficult?"

He felt the tension bleed out of his muscles slightly. Talking about his day was simple. It was empirical. He could talk about events, could describe procedures. He could be _himself_, and that was the easiest thing in the world to be.

He knew that Angela would have advised against it, but Angela was not there.

"A boy was killed," he explained. "We found him in a field behind a mall. His name was Charlie."

He thought that Brennan might have been irritated if she heard him use the victim's name after their earlier talk. But he also had a feeling that Georgia might have been concerned if he had said 'the victim' instead. He did not know much about women, but he knew that Dr. Brennan wasn't like most of them, and detaching himself from Charlie's remains was probably not something he should do if he wanted a normal girl like Georgia to like him.

Because he _did_ want Georgia to like him.

"That's awful," she said sympathetically. "It must be so _hard_ to work with children. Especially knowing that someone _did_ that to them on purpose. I don't know how you do that."

"We also discovered that he was sexually abused prior to the murder."

He wanted to throw hot coffee on himself and run into traffic. Sexual abuse – particularly when pertaining to children – was not the kind of thing you discussed with someone on a date. Even if it _was_ his job. He didn't know much about going on dates, but he knew _that_ for certain.

Yet somehow, Georgia wasn't disturbed. Not by the way he said things or by the fact that he said them at all. She just frowned and seemed to understand what he couldn't find the words to say.

"You poor thing. Sounds like your day sucked a whole lot worse than mine did. Let's get you some pie."

She waved her hand in the air and called the waitress over with a bright and cheery grin. Zack liked the fact that she was polite to everyone. Most people weren't. Most people were too consumed with the fact that their food wasn't perfect or their drink wasn't arriving fast enough to realize that maybe the cook's wife just died or maybe the bar was swamped. He didn't like people who ignored those possibilities. He thought they were selfish. And they were narrow-minded. It was good to know that Georgia wasn't one of them.

It was for that reason that he continued speaking. He was used to keeping everything to himself, but Georgia seemed like the kind of person with whom one could share thoughts, emotions, and overall inner feelings that were rarely expressed to anyone.

"I've been told that I should put my heart in a box. Which apparently means focusing on the details during a case like this. But it's harder than it was made to seem."

Georgia frowned briefly and ordered the slices of pie for she and Zack from the waitress. Then she said, "I can see why that would help you do your job. It's good advice. It is. But I feel like you don't want to entirely _lose_ that human connection, you know? After a while of putting your heart in a box, it seems like it would be really easy to just go _numb_. And I think that would be a really lonely and difficult way to live."

"That's what I was thinking. But I couldn't say it like that, of course. I'm not very good at explaining abstract emotions."

Georgia chuckled and asked, "well, who told you to do that? Focus on the details, put your heart in a box, all that?"

"My professor, my boss. Dr. Brennan. You remember her?"

"Was she the one who was dating that F.B.I. agent?" Georgia asked thoughtfully.

"Agent Booth? No, they're not dating. They're partners. Although Angela seems to think that they _should _be together. She talks about it. _A lot_."

"_Really_? Wow, I could've _sworn_. The way he acted like he had to protect her from every little thing, and the way he referred to her as 'his' forensic anthropologist…I mean, pretty typical male behavior, especially if she were his girlfriend."

Zack frowned. And then he did something he very rarely did: spoke without thinking.

"_I_ don't act like I have to protect people from everything."

He was, of course, concerned about the fact that she had described Agent Booth as a 'typical' male. When one said 'typical', Zack found that they often meant 'ideal'. To say that something was typical was to say that it was what they wished _their_ significant other could be like. It was an unfortunate social fact that normalcy was often highly desired in both sexes. And if Agent Booth was Georgia's typical male, then that meant that Zack was not. And that meant that their meeting for coffee was just that – a meeting for coffee. Not a date. Not anything.

But Georgia seemed to understand what he was saying without him having to explain. She seemed to get why his mouth was pursed in a thin line, and why he looked so confused and befuddled. She leaned forward and smiled at him. Slow, graceful, _perfect_.

"That's because you're not a typical male."

Zack frowned.

Georgia continued, "and that's why I like you."

And Zack smiled.


	8. Emotions Don't Change Heart Size

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**Chapter 8:** Emotions Don't Change Heart Size

Two days after the coffee shop, while Zack was investigating the remains of a sixteenth century soldier, his phone rang. It was Georgia.

Dr. Brennan didn't like it when people took personal calls during work hours, but she wasn't around and the lab was practically abandoned. Plus, it was Georgia. There was no way he was going to ignore her call. He hadn't spoken to her since their 'date', and it was only under threat of death from Angela that he hadn't called her already. He was supposed to be 'waiting' to make it seem as if he wasn't as desperate as he was, but if she was breaking that supposedly requisite waiting period, then he was happy to comply.

"Georgia," he said happily. "I'm glad you called."

"Yeah, me too. Look, I know this is kind of weird, but…can we meet up? There's a park somewhat between my place and the Jeffersonian…"

Zack knew which park she was referring to. She had mentioned it during their coffee date. She enjoyed being out in the fresh air and away from the paper grading and disciplinary pressure of being a high school teacher. Zack had personally never been to it. He didn't find much pleasure in being outside in general. He preferred the lab. It was clean, it was safe, and it was predictable. Nothing bad happened in the lab.

* * *

But when he got to the park and saw Georgia sitting on a bench by the lake, he decided that the outdoors was infused with a certain beauty of its own.

As he approached her, he nervously ran through all the things he should say in his head. And then the things that he shouldn't. He wasn't good at social interaction, especially _casual _social interaction, but he had seen it executed enough to have a vague understanding of the kinds of topics that were appropriate. Remembering what they were was never a problem with his photographic memory. It was the keeping calm under pressure and managing to force himself to not say anything stupid that was the problem.

And then he noticed that her hands were clutched tightly around her purse. Her knuckles were white. Her arms were shaking.

He wasn't good at reading body language and being able to discern emotions by looking at facial expressions, but his immediate instinct was that she looked unhappy. He cleared his throat as he approached her.

"Georgia?"

He tried to say it quietly because he didn't want to startle her. Her eyes were not fixed on any one point of the lake, which to Zack meant that she was probably drifting off into her own thoughts the way he often did at work. He didn't like it when Hodgins came up behind him suddenly and interrupted _his_ reverie. He didn't think that she would like it either.

But still, she jumped a bit off the bench and hastened to wipe her eyes.

Even _he _knew what that meant; she was crying.

His heart tightened. Grew smaller.

Impossible, but he felt it.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded and laughed. But it wasn't a normal laugh. He hadn't known her for long, but he knew the sound of her laugh quite well. It was bright, it was open, and she didn't hold anything back. This was a lesser version of that laugh. A sad laugh.

"I'm fine. I'm just…confused." She put her hand on the bench next to her. "Come on, sit."

He quickly sat.

"What's wrong?"

Agent Booth had asked Dr. Brennan the exact same question a few days earlier when she had been wearing an expression almost identical to the one that was currently displayed on Georgia's face. Zack only remembered the moment because Angela had made a quiet squealing noise of excitement which he hadn't immediately understood. So he figured that it wasn't too invasive of a personal question to ask. It made sense. And Booth was a good model to imitate because he seemed to have an inordinate amount of success with women. According to Angela, his girlfriend was extremely beautiful.

Though Zack seriously doubted that she was more beautiful than Georgia.

Georgia was silent for a long moment, and then she sighed and said, "it's kind of a long story. I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

He didn't hesitate.

"I won't."

It was a fact. But not like math equations were facts or the way that Washington D.C. was the capital of the United States of America. It wasn't that _kind_ of fact. It was the kind of fact you couldn't quantify. A fact that couldn't be accurately explained by evidence. He usually didn't like those kinds of facts. He usually didn't state them. But this was an exception because he somehow knew that it was what she wanted to hear. And that was more important than his well-formed sense of rationality.

As predicted, she was happy with what he said. So happy that she smiled a real smile at him.

"It's just that I don't know what I'm _doing_. I'm twenty-four years old and I already hate my career. I can't seem to make myself like teaching anymore. After what happened to Nester, I feel like I can't get over it. I feel like all of the kids are evil. I hate them. I know that's an awful thing to say, but I just _hate_ them. Knowing that they have the potential for murder in them is just heartbreaking. I don't know how much longer I can stomach it. It hurts."

She put her hand on her heart. Zack could almost feel the pain in his own.

Impossible. But he felt it.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said gently, quietly, privately. "I have never understood people, either. People aren't rational, they're not logical. They do things that don't make sense to me. I don't understand even the things that _I_ do, sometimes. There are not many things that are beyond my reasoning, but one of them is how people can do what I see them do every day. Crimes of passion, willingly causing another person pain for no reason other than because of jealousy or anger or some other strong emotion, it _is_ confusing. And it hurts to know that it could happen to anyone."

He knew that there were probably thousands of other things that he should have said instead of what had just come out of his mouth. He knew that he could have been poetic, colorful, more _helpful_. He could have explained himself better. But still, he had a feeling that he had done the best he could to make sure she knew that he understood. He might not be able to say the right thing, but he was able to feel what she felt. That was a big step.

And she seemed to get it.

"Thank you, Zack. I knew you'd be the right person to call."

"How?"

"How did I know?"

"Yes, how did you know? I'm not good with people. Not even my closest friends. _Angela_ would know the right thing to say. She would tell you what to do. She would tell you how she felt. Really felt."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Zack. You knew exactly what to say to make me feel better. Because you understand me. I'm not sure that anyone else would have."

Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. He wanted to wipe them away. Instead, he asked, "what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. That's why I called you. My life has turned into a balancing act between work and _preparing_ for work. You're the only person my age who I've actually spent _time_ with in a while." She laughed. "It sounds even more pathetic when I say it out loud."

"I don't spend a lot of time with my peers either," Zack confessed.

"Thanks for coming out here to see me, then. I wasn't sure you would. I mean, I'm just some random teacher you met on a random case."

"We had coffee," Zack pointed out.

It wasn't meant to be funny, but she laughed. So maybe it was.

"That's true. We did."

He paused.

"We should get dinner."

She looked at him with surprise on her face. He didn't let that unnerve him. He knew that he couldn't.

"What?"

"Dinner. I think we should get some. Together. I don't usually ask girls out because girls don't usually like me, but you seem to like me and you called me here today, so you must at least think I'm good to talk to." He knew that he was talking too fast like he always did when he was nervous, but he wasn't sure how to stop. He didn't think he could. "And I think you're beautiful and you seem interested in the things I have to say, even if you don't completely understand why I say them. I think that means we should get dinner. That's the next step, isn't it?"

Georgia laughed and leaned towards him. She kissed him gently on the cheek.

"You're adorable," she said. "And yes, dinner is the next step. I can't tonight because I have to grade some papers by tomorrow, but I'd love to get together tomorrow night. Is that all right for you?"

"Okay," Zack said eagerly. "We're not working on a case right now. Well, technically I've been assembling the skeleton of a sixteenth century warrior who…" he paused and warily said, "but you don't want to hear about that."

He was proud that he had caught himself before he managed to scare her away with talk of dead things, but then she surprised him further by quickly shaking her head.

"I don't mind. I _like_ what you do. Truthfully, I wish I could do something like that. Something meaningful. Something important. Tell me about your sixteenth century warrior. I'm genuinely, truly interested."

She moved comfortably closer and looked him right in the eyes. When he started talking, she listened. Occasionally, she stopped him to ask what a word meant, or what part of the body he was talking about, and he would explain.

He loved explaining. He loved it when people asked him to use his knowledge to teach them something. It felt a little like having _power_. He didn't have much power in any other area of his life, so it was good to feel like he had any at all.

And as luck would have it, he had found a girl who loved to learn.

As Angela would say, it was a match made in Heaven.

His heart grew big again.


	9. Geniuses Are Solitary People

**Thank you all for reviewing! And please keep reading! :)**

**Chapter 9:** Geniuses Are Solitary People

Georgia said, during a telephone conversation the following afternoon, that they should go somewhere casual. She knew that Zack didn't have much experience with pleasant dates, so she explained that formal dates early on in the interaction – she even used the word 'interaction', and Zack knew that she was consciously trying to put it in a way that he would understand – added pressure to the evening. If the participants were paying a lot for the experience, they sometimes felt like they _had_ to have a good time or they _had _to be more cordial than they usually were. Georgia didn't want to have to be overly cordial and she didn't want to feel the pressure of needing to have a good time. She wanted to be able to see the real Zack, and she wanted Zack to see the real her. It made sense to him; being oneself seemed like it would be an important aspect of a comfortable and healthy relationship even in the early developmental stages. So they decided to eat at a little restaurant that served Italian food and had comfortably low prices.

Zack liked Italian food. And he certainly liked inexpensive dinners.

But Georgia did her hair differently and put on some makeup, and Zack wore a shirt he borrowed from Hodgins and he let Angela attempt to tame his hair. He thought maybe they both still felt a _little_ pressure. Because maybe she wanted this date to work out just as much as he did.

Preparing to leave the Jeffersonian for the night, Zack was so nervous that he felt nauseas. Which was something that he didn't feel very often. Hodgins said it meant he was trying so hard to be human that his circuits were frying. Angela said that it was natural. She hugged him, kissed his cheek, and said that she was proud of him. He was fairly certain that she was being sincere, but only because Angela was so rarely insincere that the odds were almost entirely in favor of sincerity. And maybe also because he knew that Angela was his friend and believed that friends should be honest to one another always. But even though he had that intuitive feeling in him, he much preferred to base his theories about relationships at least somewhat in empirical observation. So he ignored the emotion-based reasoning and instead stuck to the facts.

And then he headed off to meet Georgia on foot.

* * *

They met at the park where they had made the date the previous afternoon. It seemed only fitting. Zack was fairly certain – based on the limited knowledge he had of films and novels concerning the subject – that it could even be deemed romantic. The streetlamps lit her hair up, lit her face up, and bathed her entire body in an ethereal glow when she rose from her seat on the bench and flashed her relaxing smile at him.

Zack had never understood the merits of poetry, but in that moment it all made sense.

And then he realized that he felt _safe_. Angela and Hodgins may have suspected that he was going to botch the date, but Zack knew for certain in that moment that he would not. He knew it without any evidence. Without even any intuition – not that it would have mattered, for Zack put no stock in 'gut' feelings. But for once, he did not need _proof. _He simply _knew_. Because Georgia liked to listen and Georgia liked to learn. And even though she was a socially adept woman and could have had many friends who were equally as adept as she, she chose to associate with _him_. She said on their second meeting that she liked the people no one paid attention to because they had the most to offer. Zack remembered thinking that he was one of those people. And the fact still stood against all subsequent tests. Georgia liked him because he was different. Because _she_ was different. And he thought that maybe – just maybe – that meant there was nothing to worry about.

It was a wonderful feeling.

"You look beautiful."

Angela had told him to say it – demanded, in fact – but he wouldn't have needed the advice. It would have been the first thing out of his mouth, anyway. He wouldn't have been able to keep it in if he had wanted to.

Zack knew that judging beauty was a largely subjective experience for most people. Different people claimed to find different features attractive. Zack himself preferred brunette hair over blonde hair. He preferred natural beauty over the work of cosmetics or surgeons – for though he could appreciate beauty in all of its forms, he did not understand why it was that women were constantly expected to put effort into their looks while men were expected to not care at all. It was unfair, and Zack preferred it when a woman resisted those changes. It meant that she was strong and independent. Like Dr. Brennan.

He also preferred normal sized breasts. Hodgins had tried to explain to him many times why it was that men liked large breasts, but Zack had yet to fully comprehend the concept. They looked uncomfortable.

So to say that Georgia was beautiful was not exactly an empirical statement. Beauty was difficult to analyze in a rational way. Zack was certain that there were many men who would not find Georgia as attractive as he did. Maybe some men would deny her attractiveness entirely. But at the same time, she had all the markers of a traditionally beautiful woman. Her features were symmetrical, her eyes were a perfect distance apart, and her nose was centered exactly on her face. Her cheekbones were prominent but not _too_ prominent, and her mouth was wide but not _too _wide. In short, she was the kind of person that Zack felt one hundred percent confident in calling 'beautiful' without allowing for any subjective analysis on the matter. Of course, he said the same thing about both Dr. Brennan and Angela.

He was willing to admit to a small amount of bias in all three cases.

He didn't say any of that aloud, however. He wasn't sure how romantic it would sound, analyzing her facial features in his scientific monotone. He hadn't been on many dates with physically appealing women, but he had a feeling that breaking their looks down to genetics and eons of evolution might seem a little insulting to a certain kind of person. Not Georgia, he didn't think, but he was still unwilling to take the risk of a social gaffe. Instead, he just smiled uneasily and hoped that she took the compliment as it was intended.

He would ask Angela about all of that later. He thought he might also mention that he thought she was objectively beautiful without allowing for any subjective analysis as well. He knew that Angela would understand the compliment in the way he meant it to be. She had been very helpful to him and she never tired of giving him advice on what to say and how to act. She deserved to hear what he thought. It would make her smile.

Like Georgia did.

"Thank you, Zack. And you look _extremely_ handsome."

Her tone held a hint of a joke, but not enough of a hint to make him think she was mocking him. In fact, she was looking him up and down the way Angela sometimes looked at Agent Booth. Since Angela frequently expressed her desire to, as she put it, 'tap that', Zack could only assume that it was a sign of admiration of his physical state.

He certainly didn't understand _why_, but as a general rule he didn't _do_ 'why', anyhow. So he just accepted it as another way that Georgia defied his rational expectations about almost everything he thought he had learned about the nuances of social interaction.

Together, he and Georgia wordlessly decided to walk the short distance to the restaurant rather than taking Georgia's car. It was a nice night. A warm night; cloudless and silent. Zack wanted to take her hand in his, so he shoved his hands in his pockets instead.

Angela had warned him not to move too fast. Although he was sure there wasn't really any danger of _that_, Zack's philosophy had always been that it didn't hurt to be _sure_.

"It's really nice out tonight," Georgia remarked with a sigh of contentment, looking up at the sky. "You can see all the stars."

"It's beautiful," Zack agreed. He wanted to say that _no, you can't see all the stars_, but he knew that she didn't mean it literally and he didn't want her to feel like he was being patronizing. It was one of the many problems that he knew he had with women. People didn't like to be corrected. Especially – apparently – by _him_.

"You know, I was thinking when I was getting ready, and this _might_ be kind of a weird question to ask, but I'm honestly not sure of the answer. One of the other teachers at my new school was asking me all about you. She's one of _those_ types of people who always want to know everything about every_body_. Which is usually annoying but in this case helpful because it got me thinking: does this count this as our _first_ date, or our _second_ date?

Zack froze up. He didn't know. And not only did he not know, but he didn't even have an idea about how he was expected to answer. It wasn't like the counting and labeling of dates was some kind of broad social construct that he would have been able to learn through observation and the gathering of empirical data. He was alone in the woods – if that _was_ the correct use of that particular metaphor – on this one.

He had to actually formulate a response to a social query based solely on his own opinions rather than any concrete evidence in front of him. It was a difficult challenge, and it took him several moments to think of an answer.

"Third," he finally blurted.

And then he waited for the inevitable backlash.

But it never came.

"Third," Georgia said thoughtfully. "You know, I completely overlooked that possibility. But it makes sense. First date was coffee. Casual, fun. Like the exposition stage of writing. We could always count Wong Foo's as a date, but that was with Angela and Agent Booth was sitting at the bar and you talked about your ex, so I don't think it makes sense to count that. And normally, I wouldn't count the park as a second date. But you were the only person I could think of to call to help me with that particular problem, and even though you were at work, you came to see me. Even though you barely knew me and had no idea what I wanted out of you. That counts for something."

She smiled and leaned into him so that her shoulder bumped against his arm as they walked.

He hoped fervently that she had done it on purpose. And he didn't move away. He was usually a person who liked his personal space, but he didn't mind that Georgia was close to him. In fact, he enjoyed it.

He had been confident only minutes before, but already that had changed.

"I'm glad we're doing this," he said firmly.

Angela told him to say that, too. Unfortunately, he was running out of tips. He was going to have to start using his own material, soon.

"You know, I am too. You're a really interesting guy."

"Is that a negative thing? Because usually when women say that to me, it's a negative thing."

"Not in this case. I think that if someone can describe you as _interesting_, it's a whole lot better than them just describing you as 'nice' or 'kind' or 'sweet'. That's boring. Interesting leaves a lot of room for, well, interest. If that makes any sense."

Zack proudly knew exactly which compliment to give.

"You're an interesting person, too. Usually, people are disgusted when they hear what I do. Especially when I'm the one describing it. I'm afraid I'm not good at softening the blow and using gentler adjectives to explain my position at the Jeffersonian. But that was the context in which you met me, and _still_ you wanted to come out with me tonight."

"I guess I just take pride in being a little different."

Zack grinned.

"Me too."

It was something that he didn't tell many people. His mother had always encouraged conformity. She frowned upon many of his childhood habits, such as excessive reading, an unabashed exploration of nature in all its forms, and the rabid interest in computer programs. And even though as he grew older he learned to be proud of his unorthodox interests and his unusually high level of intelligence, the stigma still stayed. People didn't like people who liked to be different. People who deviated from the norm presented a viable threat to any society. Nero, Hitler, Stalin. They upset the balance and bred chaos. Of course, Zack's brand of originality was a bit less radical, but the principle was the same.

However, if Georgia was brave enough to admit that she was all right with being different, then he supposed that he could ignore his adverse inner emotions and admit to the same. After all, in relationships one was supposed to feel perfectly content being completely open with their significant other. And even though his 'relationship' with Georiga was currently in the very beginning stages, he figured that there was some sense in getting comfortable as early on as possible.

Georgia appeared to agree.

She tucked her arm carefully through his and leaned against him. Zack welcomed the physical contact. She was warm and soft and the slight pressure on his arm made all the nerves on that side of his body flare up with excited energy. It was important for human beings to be affectionate with one another. Zack knew for a fact that he wasn't touched enough. That was why he continued to have dreams in which people hugged him. They never did anything more than hug.

For some reason, those dreams made him sad.

But being with Georgia made every bad feeling go away. He was happy. He was content.

And then his phone rang.

It was Dr. Brennan.

They had a case.


	10. Girls Are Generally Pissed

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!

Interesting tidbit of the day: apparently 'cancelled' and 'canceled' are both accepted spellings of the word. You think as an English major, I would have known this by now. Nope. And I feel a little foolish.

**Chapter 10:** Girls Are Generally Pissed When Their Dates Are Canceled By Mummified Remains

"I'm sorry," he said again as he zipped up his blue Jeffersonian jumpsuit.

"Zack, it's _fine_. You don't have to keep apologizing. It's not your fault some guy decided to be murdered during our date. Plus, I actually get to see you in action at a crime scene without, you know, being questioned as a possible suspect. That's _better_ than dinner. And if you're feeling up to it, we can grab some ice cream or something after; make it a real _traditional_ third date. Although personally, I prefer the originality that this one offers."

Zack grinned nervously and grabbed his kit from the closet.

"Do you like the lab?" he asked. He wasn't sure why, but he felt overwhelmingly defensive. If she said that she didn't like it, he thought that he might be a little less into her. The lab was his home. And even though it was currently devoid of any life or noise, it still felt warm and welcoming to him. Even _when_ it was full of life and noise, it didn't feel welcoming to most people. Most people said that it was cold and uninviting. Much like Zack himself. So Zack supposed that logically, as someone who seemed interested in a person who was cold and uninviting, Georgia should see the lab differently than the _other_ normal people who walked its halls.

He wasn't all that sure what he would do if she didn't.

"Oh, I _love_ the lab. It's so big and beautiful. The first time I came in here, I was _stunned. _I mean, the architecture is just really _different_, you know? Well, of course you know. You work here every day, but something tells me you don't take a whole lot of time to look around and realize how beautiful the plants and the second-level walkways are."

"You're right. I don't."

"See? Look at how gorgeous it is. Not to mention that with all the security around, it's impossible not to feel safe. I love it."

He couldn't stop smiling.

"Me too."

She took his arm again as they walked to the car. She even offered to help him carry something. He didn't need her to, but he liked the fact that she wanted to assist him.

He wanted to tell her that he would have offered to carry her things, as well. He wanted to let her know that he could be helpful even though he didn't usually notice when people required assistance, because oftentimes he was too busy working or thinking about working. But he didn't say anything.

However, he _did_ make a mental note to pay closer attention to the severity of her armload. If she was carrying her laptop or an arm full of books, he would consciously make an effort to help. Because that was what people did for other people they had fond feelings for. They lended a hand (if that was indeed the correct expression).

And then the pleasant surprises he had so far experienced only _continued_. When he abashedly asked if they could take her car to the crime scene, she did not mind. She didn't gasp incredulously when he admitted that he was unable to drive on his own. She didn't ask him '_why_?' in the derogatory tone of voice that Naomi from Paleontology had used when she discovered that he did not have a license. She just smiled and said 'no problem'. Girls usually minded. Girls usually thought he was weird when he told them the reasons why he was afraid of driving.

Georgia didn't. Georgia said she understood.

Being that he was part of the way through a second doctorate in engineering, Zack knew more about the structure of cars than most people. He knew exactly what speeds and what forces had to occur to cause fatalities. He knew the angles and he knew the numbers. Getting behind the wheel of a vehicle and being accountable for all of the lives inside was just not a responsibility he was willing to undertake. As a result, he avoided driving and left it up to more capable hands.

He thought that it might have meant a lot to Georgia that he considered her more capable than he when it came to driving. However, he couldn't really tell. He never _could_ tell what people were thinking. Not like how Booth and Angela used body language to figure out the right responses to the things other people said and did. But still, Zack knew that he was doing a nice thing, showing his trust in her. It was more than simple politeness. It was the kind of thing that a person was expected to do for someone they deemed 'special'. Or maybe 'worthy' was a better word.

Georgia hid her smile, but he saw it peeking through the curtain of hair that separated them.

She pulled out of the parking lot.

"You know, D.C. is really pretty at night," she said. "I don't usually notice it during the day."

Zack stared at the lights passing by them, at the colors and the people and the merriment and the joy. He remembered being young and looking out the window at the blurry scenery passing by and thinking that it was beautiful, but he hadn't done that for years. Time in the car had long ago become time to do more work. Working through two doctorates and holding a steady job at the Jeffersonian Institute left little time for anything _but_ work, and one way to allow himself an iota of free time at home was by doing some of his paperwork in the car.

But stopping to take a look at the world around him was exciting. And he never would have done it without Georgia. He looked at her, at the way the shadows and the lights passed over her face and lit up her skin as they drove by nightclubs and restaurants and office buildings.

"I usually don't notice how pretty it is at all."

* * *

Together, Zack and Georgia walked down the stairs and into the main club room where Brennan was waiting with the body. _Bassment_, the establishment was called. Georgia explained the play on words, which Zack hadn't noticed other than to recognize that the word _basement_ was spelled wrong. And even though he understood the joke, he didn't think it was as clever as the owner of the club undoubtedly did. Georgia agreed with a laugh and a roll of her blue eyes.

Match made in Heaven.

"Zack!" Dr. Brennan practically shouted, and she ran to him frantically. He had never seen her with so much energy. He was admittedly slightly frightened. "Zack! Zack, come here. Come here. Isn't this a beautiful specimen of mummification?"

She dragged him over to the victim who had been hidden in the wall. Zack knew better than to resist, but he couldn't help the way he reflexively pulled away a little. She was drawing him too close. She was too enthusiastic. Her usual demeanor of observant calm was _clearly_ gone. He didn't know _what_ had happened to her, but he knew that it was different. And he knew that asking _her_ was unlikely to produce an accurate response. So he turned to the nearest person in the room who looked as bemused as he felt: Booth.

"What's going on?"

"Let's just say your boss inhaled," Booth replied, and he rolled his eyes a little in a manner that suggested his agreement with Zack's terrified but slightly amused tone.

Georgia hung back beside Booth's girlfriend and fixed the tall, elegant lawyer with a sunny smile.

"Hey," she said. "I'm Georgia. What do you do?"

"Oh, I'm not…no, I'm not part of this," Tessa said uncomfortably. "I'm with Agent Booth."

Booth turned around at the sound of his own name and spotted Georgia getting chummy with his girlfriend. He turned to look at Zack, for once willingly making eye contact with the younger man.

"Isn't that the teacher from…?"

"Yes," Angela interrupted. "They were supposed to have a date tonight, but this probably _totally_ ruined it."

She glared at Dr. Brennan, but Dr. Brennan did not see.

Zack hastened to come to her defense.

"This didn't ruin anything. Georgia is very interested in my work. And, in case you were wondering, Agent Booth, this would have been our _third_ date."

He couldn't hide the pride in his voice.

"Yeah, I wasn't wondering. I'm just confused," Booth snapped, possibly irritable about being taken away from his own evening to investigate a death. Zack also liked to think that Booth was jealous of the fact that Georgia didn't seem to mind missing dinner while Tessa's sulking was apparent even to someone as severely emotionally underdeveloped as Zack was.

"See how perfectly dried and preserved the skin is," Dr. Brennan continued, pulling his attention back to the mummy and away from the personal bragging rights of having an understanding date. "You don't find something like this every day." She turned and looked at Tessa. "Hey, Tessa. Have you seen it?"

Tessa's expression when she wordlessly declined was indisputably one of disgust. Even Zack could see that. Even _Dr_. _Brennan_ could see that. And, indisputably, Dr. Brennan looked hurt by the callousness Tessa was displaying. Booth tried to pull Dr. Brennan's attention back to the mummy, shooting an apologetic look at his girlfriend.

Even though Zack knew that corpses weren't for everyone, he thought Tessa could perhaps be slightly more courteous in her rejection of the invitation. It was possible that he was biased because Dr. Brennan was his teacher, his mentor, and based on the level of affection in their day-to-day interaction: his friend. But it was more possible that Zack was simply realizing through his conversations with Georgia and Angela and even Hodgins that sometimes polite was the right thing to be. It was still ultimately useless, unless you wanted something from the other individual, but it was a social inevitability that Tessa should have observed.

Even _he_ knew that.

"I'll look!" Georgia gasped, stunning Tessa into silence and stunning Zack into open-mouthed gaping. "Can I?"

"Yes!"

Dr. Brennan wrenched herself away from Booth and breezed past Tessa without another glance. Then she grabbed Georgia's arm in a vice-like grip and led her over to the remains.

Georgia didn't flinch. She didn't squeal. She didn't say anything about it being disgusting, smelly, or vile.

In fact, Georgia smiled.

"This is amazing," she breathed.

Booth looked at Tessa. Tessa winced and looked away. Zack felt his chest puff up with pride. Clearly, his date was the more superior specimen.

"Wow, Zack. She likes dead things too. You guys are totally perfect for each other."

Zack knew that Angela was quite probably high on something that impaired her judgment and reasoning skills (not to mention caused the rather alarmingly high volume of her voice), and thus couldn't help the things that were coming out of her mouth, but he was still slightly irritated by her candid remark. Angela, of all people, knew how delicate the human bonds that evolved into relationships were. Zack didn't know anything about maintaining a relationship, but he knew that he liked Georgia. And he didn't want her to hear anything that might make her like _him_ less. He thought that maybe it would be the worst thing in the world.

But Georgia didn't react in the way Zack assumed she would. In fact, she turned and smiled right at him between excited exclamations of 'awesome' and 'what's that thing?' to Dr. Brennan. So if she had heard Angela's declaration at all, then clearly she was not disturbed by the implications in the statement. Zack would even go so far as to say that she _agreed_ with it. And the feeling that accompanied that realization was the best thing he had felt in a long, long time.

All things considered, it had turned out to be a pretty amazing date for everyone involved. Despite the nontraditional atmosphere and the fact that they hadn't even gotten anything to eat, Georgia seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself.

Dr. Brennan was having a good time, too, and Zack knew that it wasn't just because she was high. Dr. Brennan was excited that _someone_ other than the people on her payroll cared about such an interesting and unusual find. _Zack_ was excited that a girl who he genuinely liked and who seemed to genuinely like him in return wasn't disgusted standing face to face with a mummy. Even Angela was excited because Zack had finally found a girl who didn't think he was weird.

But she was high, and her gushing over Georgia quickly dissipated as she turned her attentions to Booth and Tessa.

Tessa _was _beautiful, Zack had to admit. Angela had not been wrong in her assessment. Her features were very symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing. But her hair was _blonde_. Georgia's was brown. Zack liked Georgia's better. Rationally, he knew that there was no difference between light and dark hair when it came to analyzing a personal connection, but he could not ignore his preference. And it was socially accepted and normal for a person to have a preference, anyway.

"It's so hard to believe that you two would be a couple. You know, cop and lawyer. It's very touching."

Angela's statement seemed to have some kind of effect on Tessa, because she broke eye contact with Angela and refused to look at Booth. Zack found that he didn't particularly care. He usually didn't when it came to the relationships of others, but in this case especially because he knew from Angela that Booth and Dr. Brennan were the ones who would be together eventually. He hadn't believed it at first, but Angela was convinced. And though Zack's intellect was far superior to Angela's in almost every way, he conceded to her wisdom when it came to interpersonal connections.

Although on this particular subject, she was neglecting to mention something very important. Because Booth and Tessa were not nearly as touching, nor as contradictory, as Zack and Georgia.

He knew that it was unlikely that there was no one else in the world more different than them, but he still couldn't help but feel that if it were a competition between the two couples, he and Georgia would undoubtedly win.

And it worked for them, being so different and yet so alike at the same time.

It _would_ work.

Like his assertion that he would not believe Georgia was crazy no matter _what_ she said to him, it was yet another fact that could not be proven. He used to hate statements like that. Definitive statements about largely subjective topics. They were irritating and he used to correct as many as he felt he could get away with without annoying his friends. Maybe more. But since meeting Georgia, it had been different. _He_ had been different.

He surprisingly found that he enjoyed it.

"Hey, stud," Georgia said in an inoffensive but marginally sarcastic manner, appearing beside him and kissing him on the cheek. "You're up. Dr. B. is done giving me the rundown of the _awesome_ mummy."

"Oh, good," he said absently. "If you want to leave…"

"Are you kidding? I didn't get my ice cream yet."

And with another smile, she went to stand beside Angela.


	11. Risk Taking Ends in Disaster

**Chapter 11:** Risk Taking Ends In Disaster

Despite Zack's numerous assertions that she really _could_ leave and he really _wouldn't_ be offended if she didn't want to stick around, Georgia hung out at the crime scene long past the time that would have likely marked the end of their date. Each instance Zack brought it up, she insisted that she found the whole event fascinating and, besides, she wanted her ice cream and she was going to get it no matter how long it took.

She said to Zack later that the more she spent watching the process, the more questions she had for him, and the more desire she had to go out and ask him all about it. It was a completely foreign situation. One that had no basis in logic. Zack had a limited experience with women for a reason. As soon as they learned his interests, his job, and the fact that he actually _enjoyed_ examining the bones of dead people to learn about them, they no longer wanted to be around him. The amount of time they spent learning about his job directly correlated with the amount of interest they had in him just like it had with Georgia, yes, but always conversely. Georgia had proved to be an exception.

As they walked to the only nearby place still open at two in the morning, she asked him all about the mummy and about the way he came to _be _a mummy stuck behind the wall of a not-very-cleverly named club. She listened intently to Zack's rambling and never once gave any indication that she was bored or even mildly disinterested in what he was saying. In fact, she seemed _more _intrigued the more he talked.

When they arrived at the diner, they were the only customers. He liked the openness of the area. Crowds made him nervous. Nerves made his hands sweat. And that meant he would have to avoid holding her hand.

He did not want to do that.

Georgia chattered about Dr. Brennan and agent Booth and how completely perfect they were for each other. She talked about how funny Dr. Brennan was acting with all the meth in her system, and how uncomfortable Tessa looked. She, like Angela, seemed to hold the opinion that Tessa and Booth's relationship was on the rocks. And like she had listened to him, Zack listened to her analysis of their actions, their briefly shared words, and their body language.

Zack wanted to fit into the real world more than anything. And Georgia was helping him do that. She was helping him learn some of the infinite amount of subtleties of human interaction. And she was more than happy to explain _how _she reached the conclusions she came to about their relationship and the relationship between agent Booth and Dr. Brennan.

"Booth is the kind of guy who likes to feel like he's taking care of someone," she said pointedly. "And Tessa is the kind of woman who _acts _like she doesn't need a guy to take care of her, but she secretly _loves _the fact that he's such a big, strong guy type. But she puts on this front of being the strong, confident woman. Dr. Brennan doesn't have to pretend. Dr. Brennan _is _a strong and confident woman."

"So by that logic, shouldn't agent Booth be more attracted to Tessa? Because if he wants to feel like a protector…? I don't understand the rationale that Booth is attracted to Dr. Brennan more than just physically."

"This is where it gets relatively murky, but this is the kind of stuff that I enjoy doing, so just _try _to bear with me."

Zack hated psychology, but he trusted her take on it. He would have trusted almost anything she said. Especially since she _admitted _that there was no real objective analysis involved.

"Okay," he said. "I'm willing to hear your theories."

"Good. All right, so Booth likes to feel like he needs to protect someone, but Tessa doesn't _need _protecting. Because Tessa plays everything _safe_. She doesn't engage in risky behaviors. She's a corporate lawyer, which means she makes rich people even _richer _than they deserve to be. She is a safe, normal, and utterly boring woman. Sure, she might be the most imaginative lady in the bedroom, and she might be a wild and kinky soul at heart, but she's just not that exciting. I can't imagine that their conversations are very lively because she just doesn't share any of the same passions that he does. He fights for justice, she fights for money. He represents the people who don't have a voice, she squashes the voices that are trying to be heard. You see what I'm saying?"

"Yes. And Dr. Brennan is nothing like Tessa?"

"Exactly. Dr. Brennan doesn't need his protection because she can take care of herself, but she's constantly in danger. And even though he knows and respects the fact that she's a tough woman, he knows that she could slip up. She could get really hurt. Because what she does is dangerous. What they do together is dangerous. And it's far more interesting than any corporate lawyer could be. Not to mention that they are on the same side of the justice system, but they agree about little else. Which gives them conversation material. And creates tension. But the good kind."

"You and I don't have tension, do we?"

"Not _that_ kind of tension," Georgia admitted, taking a bite of her ice cream. "But we're different. The fact that we're both rational people who _converse_ instead of argue isn't a hindrance for us, because neither of us are like Dr. Brennan. We're both people who enjoy different things, and we both love to learn and to teach. Which is why our conversations are always so _easy_. We always have something to say to each other. I know this is grasping at straws and I know you hate psychology, but I really do think that Brennan and Booth would be good together. Brennan gets to constantly prove that she _can_ take care of herself, and Booth is there to save her and feel special whenever she messes up. Plus, if _Booth_ messes up, then Brennan gets to show him that she's just as adequate at rescuing as he is, which creates a level of mutual respect. It makes sense to me."

"I can understand the rationale of protector and protected, and I suppose I can admit that your point about Tessa leading a safe and boring life is accurate. So yes, I concede that it _does_ make sense. Although it's confusing. And I still don't fully understand."

"Well, I still don't fully understand the whole mummy thing, so it's okay. It's only the first real date."

She grinned at him and ate another spoonful of her ice cream. Zack realized that she was implying there would be another date. Possibly more than one. He tried not to look as excited by the prospect as he really was.

"So tell me more about the mummy," she said when a silence threatened to blanket them. "How _exactly_ do you identify a guy who looks like jerky and figure out _how_ he died on top of it."

She was eating her ice cream – black raspberry – while talking about dead things.

Zack could not stop smiling.

He explained the process carefully, making sure that she understood every part. He liked the fact that she genuinely cared about what he did. She was not faking it. She couldn't be. No one would ask that many questions if they were just _pretending_ to enjoy a conversation.

Finally, he finished describing the process and took a few bites of his strawberry ice cream.

They were almost done, so Zack ate more slowly. He didn't want the date to be over. He didn't want to go home, even though he knew it was going to be _hell_ to get up in the morning and get ready for work.

He didn't think he was imagining the fact that Georgia was starting to eat more slowly, too.

"Want to try some of mine?" she asked, holding out a purple spoonful.

"I like strawberry."

Zack was unsurprisingly the kind of guy who tended to stick to the things he _knew_ he liked. Trying new things could lead to new and exciting experiences, certainly, but he much preferred the safety of routine. Strawberry ice cream was good. It was delicious. It wasn't one of those tricky foods like pizza that he sometimes was in the mood for and other times was not. Strawberry ice cream was safe.

Being alone was safe.

Zack didn't like being metaphorical – mostly because he wasn't very good at it and often got stares of derision when he tried it out – but he could recognize that strawberry ice cream could easily be equated to his solitary existence, and Georgia's black raspberry could be equated to the as-yet-unknown aspects of their new relationship which could turn out to be well worth the risk of displeasure or which could alternately leave a foul taste in his mouth.

He didn't think that it was such a horrible metaphor. It was actually moderately adequate, considering the fact that he tended to see things only literally. He almost wanted to share it, but he decided to keep it to himself for the time being. He would bring it up again later, maybe. In a few dates – if they had them.

He was uncomfortable with making the assumption.

Georgia pouted at the uncertain look on Zack's face.

"Oh, come on. Have you ever had black raspberry? It's good. Really good! _Almost_ as good as blueberry ice cream. Come on, take a bite. It won't kill you."

Zack knew that, of course, but that didn't make the prospect of risking a bad taste any more desirable. Not even when it was being offered to him by a woman he found he trusted implicitly to make the right decisions. Like Angela or Dr. Brennan. Only different, somehow. His feelings for her ran deeper.

He knew that attraction and love and all the feelings people had were just a series of chemical reactions in the brain. There was an empirical way to describe them all. But he didn't want to. For the first time in his life, he wanted his feelings to be _more_ than just a set of scientific facts. He knew that they were not, of course, but that didn't stop him from wishing.

He finally understood why Angela gave he and Brennan that pitiful stare whenever they discussed the science of relationships. Because now that he _had_ those kinds of feelings – not just lust, but something_ more_ – he was just as reluctant to leave it all to data as Angela was.

It seemed silly, but he was willing to allow himself the frivolity. And he was maybe willing to take the risk.

"What does it taste like?"

He knew that it was the wrong question to ask. After all, it was impossible to accurately describe taste to another person. Just like it was impossible to describe colors to a blind man. He knew that, but still he asked. He just didn't know what else to say.

Georgia smirked and leaned forward. Smiled.

And then she kissed him. On the lips.

She tasted delicious.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Five. Seven.

She pulled back and smiled again.

Apparently it hadn't been the wrong question, after all.


	12. Waiting is Best

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

**Chapter 12:** Waiting Is Best

Another date, another kiss, another good experience. Zack felt as if he was standing on a mountain, looking down at everyone else below him. He sincerely believed that no one could feel as good as he did.

A girl liked him. And not only was she a girl, but she was a beautiful girl who was not deterred by his strangeness. She was social, outgoing, and encouraged him to try new things even when he didn't want to. In almost all cases, the experiences turned out to be pleasant ones. She did not allow him to box himself in, and he found himself liking the challenge even though he usually found comfort and stability and familiarity to be the only way to live.

"I like her," Angela said one day, out of the blue.

"Who?" Zack asked absently, looking up from the skull he was reconstructing. He was irritated at the interruption. Dr. Brennan had been very strict with him as of late, and he needed to get the skull finished before she returned from her lunch with Booth, or she would be very displeased.

There was almost nothing he enjoyed less than experiencing Dr. Brennan's displeasure.

"Georgia. I like her."

Zack was surprised. He tried to remember if he had mentioned Georgia at all to Angela preceding the current conversation.

He hadn't. And while Angela's random statements were certainly nothing new, they never had anything to do with him. They normally had to do with agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. Zack decided that it was a compliment that his love life had become interesting enough to be worthy of one of Angela's off-topic interjections.

"Why do you like her?" he asked. He was glad to hear it, but curious. She had only met Georgia several times. It hardly seemed like enough experience to make such a definitive statement in that tone she normally used only for straight facts like 'I know I look good', 'you're weird', and 'oh, Bren, you totally need to get laid'.

"Because you're smiling," she said simply, immediately.

Zack frowned.

"I hadn't realized."

"See? Accidental smiling is a good sign. She's doing you some good. I don't think I've ever seen you smiling to yourself before. Especially not when you're reconstructing a skull. Because not even _you_ are creepy enough to be smiling about that."

She looked like she was starting to get emotional, and her voice was breaking. Zack felt supremely uncomfortable and wasn't sure what to say.

"You guys talking about Zack's new squeeze?" Hodgins asked, walking over and thankfully interrupting the moment that was brewing. Zack and Angela both nodded, Angela still with misted-over eyes and a wistful smile on her face that made Zack want to walk away as fast as he could.

"Angela likes her," Zack said pointedly. Hodgins nodded.

"Well duh," he said. "She's good for you. So what's up with her, anyway? Have you sealed the deal, yet?"

Angela slapped Hodgins on the shoulder.

"Stop it!" she exclaimed. "You're cheapening his proud moment and reducing it to sex. Although I have to admit, I _am_ curious."

They both looked at him expectantly. Zack shifted his weight from one foot to the other and decided that there was definitely something he liked less than facing Dr. Brennan's disapproval, and that something was facing Hodgins and Angela and their questions about his personal life.

"I can only assume from your reference to sex that 'sealing the deal' means that you want to know if Georgia and I have fornicated yet."

"Oh, gross, Zack," Angela groaned. "This isn't National Geographic. You're not animals. And you're not in the Bible. Fornicating is _so_ not the word you ever want to use if you want to get Georgia in the sack."

"What word should I use?"

"Sex? Making love? Don't try to overdo it with the smart vocab. We know you're a genius. _She _knows you're a genius. And as cute as that is, I assume it's not very sexy in the bedroom."

Zack frowned.

"Well, we haven't had sex yet, anyway."

"Dude, why not?"

"Jack, don't say it like that. You're making him uncomfortable."

"He's not uncomfortable, he's confused."

Zack interjected, "no, I'm uncomfortable."

"Look," Angela sighed. "It's okay if you haven't had sex. Maybe Georgia's just the kind of girl who wants to wait. That's the kind of girl who's best for you, anyway. You're definitely a waiting kind of guy."

"Yeah, let her actually start to like you before you break out your awkward bedroom technique," Hodgins scoffed. Angela slapped him again.

"I thought there was nothing wrong with waiting."

"There isn't," Angela said quickly. "Some people, like Jack and I, like to get it over with and go right to the bedroom theatrics. But that may be because neither of us is ready for a real commitment so we just throw it all out there. Plus, there's nothing quite like just living in the moment and going…"

"All right, we get it, you're a free spirit," Hodgins said quickly. "There's nothing wrong with waiting…_if you're a Martian_. There are plenty of girls who deserve respect, Zack, but most of them just want one thing."

"That's men, you're thinking of," Angela growled, slapping Hodgins yet again. "Stop trying to taint Zack. He's a blank slate, and I'm going to turn him into the most perfect boyfriend ever."

"A blank slate! The guy's had sex before, Angela. Unsuccessfully, yes, but he's no blushing virgin and you're not the quarterback of the football team ready to deflower him."

"This conversation has far too many metaphors for me to follow. What does football have anything to do with sex?"

Angela and Hodgins looked at Zack helplessly before promptly ignoring him, as was customary.

"I'm just saying that he isn't all hyper-masculine with sex on the brain twenty-four hours a day. I don't want him to be just another guy to Georgia. She's a different breed of woman. She's classy. I'm clearly the right person to help him out on this."

Hodgins wisely did not argue with that statement. Even _Zack_ knew that it would have been a bad idea to contradict Angela's assertion that she was a 'classy' woman.

"Okay," Angela said when Hodgins slunk away, defeated. "Zack, listen to me. Georgia is a catch. She's cute, she actually _likes_ you, and she isn't turned off by the fact that you reassemble skulls for a living. That is something you most likely will never find again. So you're going to just relax and work this relationship for all it's worth."

"Those seem like two totally opposite approaches," Zack pointed out. "I can either relax or work the relationship. I can't do both."

"You know what I mean, Zack."

He didn't, but he didn't want to say that. So he just sighed.

"Okay. Continue."

"Basically, just have sex with her when it feels _right_. Because it will, eventually. There will be this one moment when you just _know_ that it's time to ravage her senseless. Maybe you'll be kissing, maybe she'll ask to come up and see your place, or maybe you'll just look at her in a certain light and realize that she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen."

"I believe you have an unhealthy fascination with my sex life, Angela."

"That may be true, but Zack, seriously, just listen to me. I know you're not the most experienced person out there." She hastened to continue when she saw that he was about to protest. "I know you're not _in_experienced, but you're not exactly Ron Jeremy, are you?"

"I don't…"

"I didn't think you would. He's a porn star. Anyway, I assume that your mother tried to tell you that you're supposed to _wait_ to have sex to make it special and real and because God told you to."

"Well, yes."

"She only told you that because she's your mother. And probably because you're different and she secretly believed that you wouldn't be getting any anytime soon. But take my advice as if I was your mother. I just want what's best for you."

"You're far too beautiful to be my mother."

Angela was clearly thrown off guard by Zack's comment.

"Was that a _line_ I just heard you use, or were you just being…_you_."

"A line?"

Angela smiled, although Zack hadn't explained himself at all and had merely shown confusion over what Angela was referring to. Evidently, it meant something to her that he didn't quite understand.

"Wow, Zack. That was actually really sweet of you to say."

"I wasn't trying to be sweet. It's just a fact. You're beautiful."

"You know what? I take back everything I said. You're clearly doing just fine on your own."

She looked at him for another moment and finally flung her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely around the skull clutched in his hand.

He knew that he had made her happy by calling her beautiful. While that wasn't exactly his intention, he was glad that he could have done it. She clearly cared about his happiness and his relationship with Georgia, and he was pleased that he could return the sentiment. Even if it was just by stating a fact which she probably already knew, herself.

She walked away, and Zack turned back to the reconstruction of his skull.

Unbeknownst to him, the smile crept back over his face.


	13. Real Men Stand Up For Women

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!**

**And who else is excited about the fact that Eric is supposed to be making an appearance in the finale!?**

**Chapter 13:** Real Men Stand Up For Women, Who Are Grateful

Two dates later, there was an incident.

Zack could tell from the second they walked into Wong Foo's that the man at the bar was going to cause trouble. He was arguing with Sid, which – in Zack's limited experience with the man – had never yielded positive results for the second party. The angry man did not appear to be drunk, but he had a drink in front of him and several empty bottles littered on the bar around him. That information juxtaposed with the man's approximate height and weight led Zack to believe that he was not yet drunk but indeed well on his way enough to explain his evident belligerence.

He and Georgia were too far away to hear what the argument entailed, but it was clear from the expression on Sid's face that he had about reached his limit for tolerating the conversation he was currently engaged in. And Sid had a high tolerance for unintelligent people, Zack had noticed.

Sid saw them enter and smiled. Although at first he had appeared to dislike the 'squints' and their affinity for looking at pictures of rotting corpses in his establishment, Zack had noticed that his demeanor had been much more pleasant lately. It could have been the fact that Angela occasionally flirted with him when she came in with Zack and Hodgins, or it could have been the fact that Booth's attitude towards the 'squints' had changed lately as well. Zack was not entirely sure, and he knew better than to ask. He just returned Sid's familiar smile and wave with a half-smile and a nod of his own.

"He looks pissed," Georgia observed thoughtfully as they slid into their favorite booth and waited for Sid to bring them their chosen meals.

"He does look unhappy. That man at the bar seems to be irritating him."

"I wonder what they're talking about."

Zack thought about typical male arguments for a moment and tried to gage the severity of the argument with the list of situations he had running in his head. He wasn't good at fully understanding body language, but he figured that he may as well give it a shot.

"Probably sports."

Georgia disagreed.

"I don't know, he doesn't really look _sports_ pissed. Or even like, I'm-really-loyal-to-my-team-and-you-are-being-a-douchebag-about-them pissed. Maybe the guy owes him money. Does Sid gamble? Maybe Sid owes _him_ money."

Zack looked at her blankly.

"I'm getting a little too into it, aren't I?" she asked when she saw his expression. He nodded wordlessly and she laughed, standing up. "Fine. I'm going to go pick up our drinks and see what they're saying to each other."

Zack watched her go with a smile on his face.

He liked the fact that Georgia did not sit and speculate. If there was a chance of finding out the answers to her questions, she took it. Unlike other people who would rather form their own mental pictures of situations, Georgia cared about the truth. She did not want the gossip. She wanted the facts. It was something they had in common, although Georgia applied her thirst for the truth to social situations and Zack applied it to the examination of human remains. Still, he thought that the concept was nearly the same.

She sidled up to the bar and sweetly asked Sid for their drinks. Sid engaged her in conversation briefly while he made them. If Zack had to guess – which he generally tended to avoid doing – he would have said that Sid was asking her why she was going out with the squint kid with the floppy hair and the weird way of speaking.

Georgia laughed at something that Sid said, and Zack found himself looking at her neck. She was spectacularly pale, and the way her ivory skin flashed in the lighting of the restaurant made him suddenly feel as if his throat were closing.

But then the angry man asked her a question in a way that Zack did not like. The man was giving Georgia the look that Angela sometimes gave Booth when she knew he was watching. The look that implied she was sexually interested. It had always reminded Zack of a documentary he had watched once as a young child about lions hunting their prey. It was the same kind of look the lioness gave the helpless, wounded zebra. Zack did not like that look when it was coming from the lion, and he found that he was even less enthused when it was coming from a drunk man and was being directed towards his girlfriend.

Zack recognized the emotion: _jealousy_. And he knew what one was expected to do in a situation like the one he presently found himself involved in. Considering his age, Georgia's level of attractiveness, and the angry man's level of drunkenness, Zack knew that he was expected to punch the man in the face. That was the thing that supposedly 'real' men did when their girlfriends were being leered at by other men. That was what Agent Booth probably would have done. It was a bizarre social construct of modern American society for men in their early twenties, but Angela and Hodgins had been trying to get him to pay more attention to such norms for years. This seemed to be his chance.

So he walked up to the bar and arrived just as the angry man started to laugh.

"Really?" he asked Georgia, his eyes blearily settling on Zack. "Are you serious?"

Because he was closer, Zack could see that the angry man was approximately the same age as he and Georgia, or perhaps marginally older. His lower lip jutted out into a sneer, and when he laughed it was a deep, dim-witted sound. It was clear even from this preliminary observation that Zack held the upper-hand when it came to intelligence. The angry man was big, though, and looked strong. Zack himself worked out almost every day because he knew of the physical benefits – and, admittedly, the social ones – to having a healthy body, but he knew that he could not hope to have the same amount of strength that this man undoubtedly possessed.

He was expected to draw back his fist and punch the man, but it seemed so irrational. Most social norms did to him, certainly, but to think that he could even hope to remotely injure the angry man seemed vain and egotistical. Zack was neither of those things. At least not when it came to physicality. He had never before been in a fight, and it did not seem rational to become involved in one at the present time.

"This guy seems to think that you're not a suitable date for me," Georgia said pointedly when she noticed that Zack was standing a few feet behind her. "Though he seems to have had a few too many, so I'm betting he thinks I'm a whole lot cuter than I really am."

The angry man stood up, towering over them both.

"No, there's no way this guy is in your league. Look at him. Look at him. He looks like he's twelve. Is he twelve? I bet he sits in his room all day and plays with his Star Wars action figures."

Zack thought that maybe interjecting that his Star Wars action figures were back in Michigan with his parents would not do much to persuade this man that his theory on Zack's lack of masculinity was incorrect.

Fortunately, Georgia had enough of the conversation and aimed to do something about it. She took a step closer to the angry man and looked up at him calmly, her hands by her sides, curled into fists.

"Listen to me," she sneered. "You hulking asshole. You want to know why I'm dating him and not some drunk dick who probably got through college on a sports scholarship only to realize that his dreams of pro football were so far off that the closest he'll ever get to the team are stadium seats? Zack is funny, he's charming, he's smarter than you, me, and the rest of the world combined. He's adorable as all hell and, last but not least; he's a devil in the bedroom. So, Sid, we'll take those drinks. And keep this joker away from our table."

With that, she huffed dramatically and grabbed Zack's hand, planting a huge, wet kiss on his face for good measure before tugging him back to their booth.

Zack just went with her numbly, torn between laughing and turning red with embarrassment.

After all, _real _men were supposed to take care of women. _Real _men were supposed to stand up for their girlfriends when they needed help. And _real _men weren't supposed to let other men bully them into silence. He had been the kind of child who would give in to the taunting of the bullies because it was easier to let them win than it was to fight them. He would have thought that he would have changed by the time he graduated from college, but he hadn't. It was a far more frustrating problem than any conundrum he had ever puzzled out at work.

Georgia could sense that he was upset when they sat down. She was flushed, but happy. Her smile was bright. She seemed to be glowing, even though Zack knew that it was likely just the rush of adrenaline that was making her skin look almost luminous.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked him gently, reaching across the table and wrapping her fingers around his.

It felt nice to hold her hand. It also made him feel more ashamed.

"I should have said something," he said quietly, closing his own fingers around hers and hoping that the nervous sweating could be held at bay a while longer. "Instead of just standing there."

"It wouldn't have mattered if you said anything. Guys like that, they don't like being told what to do by other guys. He would have punched you in the face. Especially since you're clearly so much smarter than he is. He wouldn't have understood a word you were saying."

"But real men…"

"Look, what you know of 'real' men, I bet you know from reading, right? Articles, studies, empirical data gathered by censuses or that kind of thing? Maybe classes teaching you about society's expectations for men in this day and age?"

"Well, yes. I've never been a normal person. I have no real experience being a 'real' man."

"That's just it, sweetie. I like you the way you are. To me, _you_ are the real man. Not that guy over there. Not Hodgins. Not agent Booth and his penchant for kicking down doors for the hell of it. You're the one I want to spend time with, and _you_ are the one I'm excited to be out to dinner with. You know why? Because you're not the stereotypically masculine man. Any other guy would have punched that idiot in the face and wouldn't have let me get a word in edgewise. But, and this is kind of a lame secret so don't go spreading this around, I kind of love acting like a bitch to people who deserve it. You allowed me to use my words to overpower someone, rather than using your fist to shut them up before I got the chance. I'm not some delicate flower who can't take care of myself. And since you _are _a real man, you should let me kick ass when I want to."

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand harder, and Zack felt like he was going to burst into a giant, happy bubble.

"I don't understand you," he said simply. She laughed.

"I don't understand you, either," she replied. "And I like that. Your logical approach is good for me. And my wildly emotional approach is good for you."

"We're good for each other."

It was a bold statement, but Zack had a feeling – based on their previous interactions and his habit of saying unintentionally bold things – that she would know exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, Zack. I think we are good for each other."

She slid around the booth so she could be seated next to him instead of across from him, and then she brought his lips to hers.

"You lied about the bedroom thing, though," he said accusatorily when she pulled away.

"Well, I figured a little white lie couldn't hurt. Just because it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean you _won't_ be a devil in the bedroom."

"I'm not inexperienced. I'm just not very good."

His matter-of-factness was usually disturbing to people, but Georgia had gotten used to it.

"It's okay," she said, shrugging. "It's not like I'm some huge slut, either. We'll give it a go when we're ready. Right now, I'm just enjoying what we have."

And Zack was, too.

He knew that he was supposed to want more. But at the moment, he didn't.

Angela was right. It would happen when it was meant to happen.

And he was content to wait until it did.


	14. Published Articles Aren't That Exciting

**Chapter 14:** Published Articles Aren't That Exciting to Normal Girlfriends

Two weeks passed, and although it was never made official, Zack finally started to call Georgia his girlfriend. Not to Georgia herself or to anyone else, but in his head. Whenever the phone rang, he would think to himself: _I hope that's my girlfriend._

Always, he felt moderately foolish afterwards, but that didn't stop him from doing it again the next time the phone rang.

He was still confused about the precise nature of his relationship with Georgia, but he knew that they were _something_. They saw each other nearly every day to go to the movies, get coffee, or take a walk and converse about whatever happened to be on their minds that particular day. Hodgins still teased him occasionally about the fact that they hadn't slept together yet, but Zack didn't mind. Sex made him nervous. Georgia didn't, and he was getting more and more comfortable in his relationship with her as time went by. It seemed logical, then, to conclude that if it continued in the same manner, eventually he would be comfortable enough that not even sex would make him nervous anymore.

And then one day, Zack learned some exciting news.

While he knew that the particular brand of news he had received was the kind of news that was not likely to be exciting to everyone, it was exciting to _him_.

He hated guessing or anything remotely resembling guesswork, but he was comfortable enough with his knowledge of Georgia's personality to say that the odds were in his favor when it came to assessing whether it would be exciting to her, as well. Zack had become accustomed to the fact that Georgia dressed like Angela, but was not as normal as he had at first assumed. In fact, she did not seem to fit into any of the preconceptions about society and its women that he had accumulated through unwilling participation in the vast social experiment that was what Angela often referred to as "the dating world". Georgia was beautiful, but she was not vain. She was cheerful, but was able to assess a situation and adapt to a more serious mood if that was what the situation called for. She was kind to him, but was bluntly honest and sometimes rude to strangers who were unkind to her. She was always polite, but did not hide her true feelings about the events that occurred in her daily life. And most of all, she was in no way connected to the field of anthropology, but she somehow found his work interesting.

He did not understand her, but he was slowly formulating some version of a pattern when it came to her behaviors.

He believed that normal people called that 'getting to know one another'.

Angela hated it when he tried get an idea of her pattern. She consciously rebelled against the model he formed for her, because she did not want to become predictable. Not even to him. He, who found patterns in absolutely everything.

But when he told Georgia that he was beginning to categorize the anomalies in her actions, she smiled wide and said, "I'm starting to get you, too."

It meant the same thing, Zack knew. But he liked the way that she said it, better.

So, in keeping with the blueprints of her personality that he had mentally formed throughout the weeks he had known her, he thought it was a fair assessment to say that Georgia would be glad to hear the news he had to offer.

He picked up his phone and dialed her number.

"I have news," he said with a smile. "And I want to tell you before I tell anyone else. Can you meet me at the usual diner?"

"I'm actually leaving the diner right this second. I'll come to you. Meet me outside the Jeffersonian."

Zack hung up the phone – _with his girlfriend_ – and shed his lab coat quickly.

"Where are you going?" Hodgins asked with mild interest. His confusion was understandable. Zack _never_ left during the day. He was focused on his work at all times and very rarely allowed for distractions, especially when those distractions would take him from the safety of the workplace. But this was an exception, and Zack did not have time to explain. So he just smiled.

And kept walking.

* * *

She was standing outside, alone, when he reached the front door.

It was a cold morning, so she was dressed in jeans and a long tan coat, along with a blue and white striped scarf, a matching hat, and white gloves.

He could not help the smile. He couldn't make it go away. She looked adorable in that outfit, and her cheeks were red with the cold. He found it very appealing.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, walking up to him and pecking him on the lips. "You sounded so excited on the phone! What is it?"

"Well, now that I've made you interrupt your day and come here, it seems slightly silly. And a little less important than I thought it was. And, you may not even see it in the same light as I do, because admittedly this is the kind of thing that most people probably wouldn't be excited about…"

He was rambling. Like he tended to do. Like _she_ tended to do. And that was the only reason that he didn't feel self-conscious about it. Because he knew that she didn't mind. He knew that she understood.

"Zack, you know me. 'Most people' is a foreign term. So come on! Tell me! I'm sure I'll be just as excited as you are. Well, maybe a tiny bit less because it's _your _news, but I'll be as close to excited as you are as politeness dictates."

"Okay. Since you insist, fine. I will tell you. Dr. Brennan and I wrote an article on the history of the coronal suture, and it has been published in the Anthropology Journal."

"Despite the fact that I have no idea what a carnal suture is, I'm so proud of you! That's exciting news! And you realize you're going to have to get me a copy of that magazine so I can show it off to all my friends, right?"

The smile on her face was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. He didn't even have the faintest desire to correct her mispronunciation of the word 'coronal'.

"I can get you a copy," he said plainly. And then he attempted a joke when he said, "I could even sign it if you want."

She laughed, genuinely laughed at his joke, and kissed him sweetly again. Then she pulled him into a tight, warm hug.

Hugs with Georgia were different than hugs with anyone else. Hugs with other people, like Angela or Dr. Brennan, made him feel strange because he was never sure of where to put his arms. He always appreciated the gesture, but was overcome with feelings of social inadequacy and anxiety because hugs only served to remind him that he was severely socially underdeveloped. But hugs with Georgia were easy. He knew where to put his arms and his heart felt warm and he no longer felt the cold.

"You're funny when you want to be," she said pointedly when she pulled away. "And I really am very proud of you. I'm glad you called me over here to tell me."

That reminded Zack of a question he wanted to ask, but he was not sure if he should do so. After a quick internal debate, he decided on asking the question.

"If you feel it violates your privacy, do not feel pressured to tell me, but why were you at our diner so early today? Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Not today. It's one of those holidays. You know the ones that you can never name but you always had Mondays off as a kid."

"I don't pay much attention to those days," Zack admitted.

"Well, I have to. And since we didn't have school, me and a few of the other teachers decided to go out and get a drink. I suggested our diner, since it's close to the school and since, you know, it's our diner. I was _this_ close to calling and inviting you, but I figured maybe we should prepare before I go introducing you to all my friends."

"Prepare?"

"Yeah, you know. Make sure you're ready. They're…well, they're a weird bunch."

Zack grinned crookedly and tried not to show his incredulity too much. After all, Georgia fit right in with he and his friends. And they were the "weird" ones.

"Oh. Well, I suppose that was probably a good decision."

"Exactly. I don't need them scaring you off. They'll all be jealous when I show them your article, though. They were so excited when they found out I was dating a certified genius."

This time, he could not even hope to hide the incredulity when he said, "really?"

"Of course! Their boyfriends are all, you know, motorcycle enthusiasts and beer-guzzling meatheads. Like the guy we met at the bar. You're different. They crave that."

She shrugged sadly and waved her hand. Zack knew by now that the hand wave was her way of marking the conclusion of a conversation.

"Enough about that. This is your day. And you deserve a kiss."

So she kissed him deeply, and when she pulled away, she held out her fist. It was leveled at his chest and was held horizontal. It was apparently a social gesture that Zack had never encountered. He blanked and looked at her quizzically.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, gesturing to her outstretched arm.

"It's a fist bump," Georgia said laughingly. Then she gasped at his still-confused expression when she realized what was going on.

"I don't know what it is," he replied apologetically.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever had to explain a fist bump to somebody before. Um…well, basically, you just close your hand into a fist like this, and then you bump your fist against mine. It's like a high five, but with your fist, if that makes any sense."

"So it's a celebratory gesture?"

"Exactly. It's a symbol of victory. Let's put it that way."

Zack grinned and bumped his fist against hers, feeling very _normal_.

"Okay," he said. "Fist bump. I'll have to try that out some time."

"Do it. But now, I gotta get back to work, and I know you do too. Mr. published writer. Call me later, maybe we can go out and get some drinks tonight to celebrate if you're not busy."

"All right," Zack said with a relieved sigh. He was glad that she was proud of him. And he was glad that she wanted to be the person with whom he celebrated. It seemed like a girlfriend thing to do. And he desperately wanted to think of her as his girlfriend.

"Bye, sweetie," she said, and she kissed him once more before turning and walking away with a bright wave. He waved back and stood to watch her go until she got into her car and started to drive away.

He looked down at his hand – still clenched into a fist – and he held it up experimentally.

He would have to try the fist bump on Dr. Brennan.


	15. You Shouldn't Talk

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

**Chapter 15:** You Shouldn't Talk About Attractive Women With Your Girlfriend

Zack was having an unusually bad day.

He had not experienced a _truly_ bad day since he had graduated from high school and finally left behind the years of senseless bullying and social degradation, but this day for some reason felt very close to that level of discomfort. The team had finally wrapped up a troublesome and slightly disturbing case, but due to the fact that Dr. Brennan's ex-boyfriend and professor had been – as Angela had so delicately put it – "a disgusting, greasy asshole" to her in court, Dr. Brennan had been in a particularly foul mood. That put Angela in a foul mood, which put Hodgins in a foul mood, which forced Zack to have to pay close attention to every social interaction throughout the course of the day if he did not want to be yelled at or reprimanded for being insensitive. Which, in turn, served to put _him_ in a foul mood.

His solution, as it always seemed to be lately, was to invite Georgia out to eat at Wong Foo's with him. Because Georgia was one of the only people around whom he never had to be different. Georgia understood everything he tried to say, no matter how awkwardly phrased it might be. And she did not get mad when he said something seemingly insensitive, because she realized that he did not mean for it to be. And there was the simple fact that she was his _girlfriend_, and he found that he wanted to spend as much time with her as was possible. Especially around Angela and Hodgins. Because most of the time they were convinced that Georgia had dumped him and he was making up stories about her so they would not know.

So he invited Georgia to meet him at Wong Foo's and they got their own booth at the back of the restaurant. No one else from the Jeffersonian had arrived yet, but Zack knew that it was only a matter of time. Much to Booth's chagrin, Wong Foo's had become the place to eat after work. It was full of 'squints' at any hour of the night.

Word spread fast at the Jeffersonian.

Georgia told him about her day – one of the students in her class had been caught with a knife and the resulting panic had been truly remarkable – and then asked him about his. It was one of the things he liked most about their dates together; neither listened solely to get their chance to talk. They enjoyed listening to each other and hearing the stories that each had to offer. The symbiosis of it all was extraordinarily comforting.

"Well," he said finally when Georgia looked at him expectantly to begin. "Dr. Brennan's old professor was here because he was working on a case. And we learned that they were intimate when she was his student."

"They were together? Really? Wow. Though are you sure intimate is the word? It's really hard to imagine Dr. Brennan being _intimate_. She seems like one of those women who does the deed and then says 'thanks, the door is over there. Lock it on the way out'."

Zack laughed. He could see the logic in that.

"You are probably right," he said thoughtfully. "Truthfully, I never thought much about Dr. Brennan's sex life until these past few days. Or what she would be like in bed, for that matter."

"I bet agent Booth thinks about it a lot," replied Georgia conspiratorially. Zack laughed again, once again agreeing with the logic in Georgia's statement.

"Yes, I believe you are most likely right about that. Dr. Brennan is very frank when it comes to her discussion of sexual relationships, and her frankness most probably leads to vivid mental images for Agent Booth, who is not exactly discreet in his admiration of her physical qualities."

"Exactly."

"Well, I was slightly hurt that when I brought up the fact that Dr. Brennan is _my_ professor, everyone kept making comments about how it is 'never going to happen' and saying such things as 'in your dreams'. Even Angela. And Angela is _nice_."

Georgia laughed.

"That's a little unfair of them. I think Dr. Brennan would go for you. I mean, you're both extremely attractive. Plus, you're both genius smart. I think she'd welcome that."

"She _did_ mention once that she found intelligence stimulating."

"I'm not completely sure that she meant it like _that_, Zack."

Zack realized what he had inadvertently said and burst into mildly uncomfortable laughter. The sound attracted Angela and Hodgins from across the restaurant.

"Hey, you two," Angela said, shooting knowing looks back at Hodgins as she approached the happy couple. Zack knew that they were not likely judging or damning looks, but rather looks of pride at his newly formed relationship skills. Still, he felt slightly defensive. It was a reflexive reaction left over from years of being forced to defend himself against such incredulity. However, he knew deep down that Angela wanted the best for him, and was happy to see him laughing at something he would not have fully understood before he met Georgia.

Georgia did not appear to notice his slight discomfort. She greeted Zack's friends, smiled happily, and moved closer to Zack to allow Angela and Hodgins more room to slide into the booth.

Zack forced a similar smile, because though he was glad to have his friends at dinner looking significantly more cheerful than they had been earlier, he was still hurt by their earlier comments.

"I would like to point out," he started as soon as they were settled. "That _I_ would never do to Dr. Brennan what her professor did today."

"Well no kidding. Because you're not an asshole," Angela pointed out.

"And because you have human friends who would tell you that you were being a dick," Hodgins added.

"If Dr. Brennan and I ever enjoyed a sexual relationship, I would most certainly pay close attention to the social implications that my actions would have. To testify against her during a case is entirely acceptable. But to purposely attempt to defame her career and findings based in indisputable science by attempting to win over the jury with mocking is another thing entirely."

"This conversation is getting boring," Angela said pointedly. "So have you two done it yet?"

Hodgins interrupted her with, "Zack, we know you're not that kind of guy, so just drop it."

He seemed to be attempting to hint at something. Zack hated it when Hodgins or Angela did that. He'd have thought that they – being his closest friends – would have understood by that point that hinting went far over his head in nearly every case.

So instead of replying, he just stared at Hodgins blankly.

"This professor of Dr. Brennan's seems like a real douchebag," Georgia said conversationally, evidentially not noticing the uncomfortable moment that was passing between the two men. She was busy looking at Angela for information, instead. Angela grinned, as she always did when she got to gossip about Dr. Brennan's love life. Although – Zack supposed – probably not quite as much as she would have if she got to gossip about Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth.

Hodgins rolled his eyes.

"Let's go get the girls some drinks," he said firmly, standing up and grabbing Zack's arm as he went. He then proceeded to drag Zack along behind him, largely without Zack's consent.

"Ow! Why are you behaving so strangely?" Zack asked irritably, pulling his arm away once they were out of earshot of Georgia and Angela. He did not understand what Hodgins was trying to tell him, but he understood that it had to do with one of the women, and he knew better than to call Hodgins' unorthodox behavior to the forefront of conversation in front of them.

"Are you kidding? Zack, I know you're a super genius and Georgia thinks the whole socially awkward Martian thing you have going on is cute, but for God's sake, man, are you insane?"

"I do not understand what about my behavior has been at all insane. _You_, on the other hand..."

Hodgins could evidently tell – probably from the vacant and concerned expression on Zack's face – that Zack _truly_ didn't understand what faux pas he had committed. Hodgins sighed and leaned in closer, conspiratorial.

"Look. If there's one thing you're going to actually listen to me about, let it be this: do not talk about how much you want to nail other chicks when you're hanging out with your girlfriend."

Zack frowned thoughtfully.

"Is this because of what I was saying about Dr. Brennan?" he asked suspiciously. Hodgins laughed incredulously.

"I swear, sometimes it's like talking to a child. _Yes_, Zack, this is because of what you were saying about Dr. Brennan. We _all_ know that you were offended by the fact that we made jokes about you and Dr. Brennan never happening, okay? We get it. Learn to take a joke and move on."

He picked up two of the drinks that Sid somehow knew they wanted, and handed them to Zack before picking up the remaining two. Zack frowned and followed him back to the table. He knew that Hodgins was most likely correct about the situation at hand – although the fact that he had a different girlfriend every other week marginally detracted from his credibility as a reliable source of relationship information– so he decided to set about making it right.

"Georgia," he said calmly once he had sat down and handed her the drink. "I am very sorry that I was talking about Dr. Brennan in a sexual context earlier in the conversation. I did not realize that might be insensitive or offensive to you. I did not mean to imply in any way that I would ever engage in a sexual relationship with Dr. Brennan while dating you. That was merely meant to be a hypothetical situation, but I realize now that I was not entirely clear in expressing that."

Hodgins threw his hands in the air with frustration, but Georgia laughed.

"Is _that_ why you dragged him away?" she asked Hodgins in an almost scolding manner. "Look, I'm not going to lie and say that I don't feel a little threatened by her. But it's only a tiny bit. After all, Dr. Brennan is hot. _Really_ hot. If you talk about the fact that you would willingly have sex with her, I'm not going to complain. I'd be a fool to be offended by it. I mean, hell, if I was single and Dr. Brennan would go for it, I'd probably totally do her."

Zack stared. Hodgins stared. Angela grinned.

"That's hot," she said thoughtfully.

Hodgins' open-mouthed stare was transferred to Angela.

"You think so?" Georgia asked. She gave Angela a _look_. It was the kind of look that Angela sometimes gave Booth. Zack wasn't _entirely_ positive what that look meant, but he knew that it had something to do with sex.

He was mildly alarmed.

"Oh my God, this whole situation is just _hot_," Hodgins said disbelievingly. "Zack, I take it back. Whenever you have the chance, preferably with me around, talk about women in front of your girlfriend."

"I don't understand," Zack said. He knew that Hodgins was enthused about something that had transpired in the earlier conversation, but all Zack had heard was Georgia's admission that she found Dr. Brennan attractive, and apparently was attracted to Angela as well – judging by the way she looked at Angela moments before and was indeed continuing to look at Angela as they engaged in a whispered conversation. Zack did not think that it was so intriguing. After all, to judge attractiveness in members of the same sex was perfectly natural. Strictly scientifically speaking, Zack could say that both Hodgins and Agent Booth were very attractive men. He hardly understood why Hodgins seemed so flabbergasted by it.

"Zack, buddy, just do me a favor and don't try to overthink this one," Hodgins said, waving his hand dismissively and trying to listen to the conversation that Georgia and Angela were having about Dr. Brennan's cheekbones.

"I don't understand," Zack said again.

"I'll explain it to you later, buddy. Just trust me. It's hot."

So Zack fell silent.

He would take Hodgins' word for it.


	16. Normal People Don't Race

Thanks to everyone who reviewed :)

**Chapter 16:** Normal People Don't Race Flesh Eating Beetles

"What if they get mixed up?" Hodgins asked irritably.

"I can tell them apart."

Zack pointed to one of the bugs in the makeshift wrestling arena he and Hodgins had created for the purpose of Beetle Wars. "That's Jeff. And that's Ollie." He paused and then looked smugly at Hodgins when one of the flesh-eating beetles pushed the other out of the ring. "I win."

"What? _What_? That one was mine!"

"You had Jeff. I had Ollie. Ollie won and you owe me a buck."

Hodgins sighed and put the dollar in Zack's outstretched hand. Then he turned to Angela and Georgia, who were standing nearby and watching. Georgia with a triumphant smirk and Angela with something a little closer to a grimace.

"You want in on the action, Angela?" Hodgins asked.

As expected, Angela's response to Hodgins' invitation was less-than-enthused. But Zack hardly noticed because there were other, more interesting things occupying his attention. Such as the fact that Ollie was slowly edging Jeff out of the ring once more.

"No, thank you," Angela said. "I'm going to go have _sex_."

"Have a good time," Hodgins muttered absently.

"Yeah, okay," was Zack's reply.

Angela sighed. Georgia laughed.

"How do you do it?" Angela asked her new friend with something akin to pity in her tone. "I mean, this is a date, right? This is what you're doing on a _date_? Coming here and watching your boyfriend play with his bugs?"

_Your boyfriend_.

Zack inwardly glowed with pride and chose to ignore the more offensive elements of Angela's statement. Although he was careful to keep his expression outwardly stoic. There would be no accidental smiling that Angela could point out in front of Georgia, this time. He did not want that particular embarrassing habit to be brought to light, and he did not trust Angela to refrain from mentioning it if she was to notice.

But Angela was focused entirely upon Georgia, who faced Angela and said, "I love it here."

Zack forgot his determination not to smile when he heard the tone of Georgia's voice. He was not entirely sure, but it sounded as if she were feeling defensive. He liked it when she was defensive of him. Like when there was that man at Wong Foos. Although he had originally been embarrassed that he did not fit into the typical male stereotype, he had quickly realized that it was nice to have someone stick up for him.

Zack didn't know the words that needed to be said. Georgia did. Georgia knew how to press all the right buttons. That was helpful to have around. Especially at the Jeffersonian. Zack's friends were particularly adept at insulting him.

"Yeah but…sweetie, this is not normal."

"I don't like normal things."

Zack kept his smile hidden so that Angela would not know he was listening.

"What?" Hodgins exclaimed as Jeff lost again. "I demand another beetle, all right? Jeff's got a groin pull."

"Arthropods do not posses groins. Pay up."

"Keep it up, Ollie," Georgia said supportively as Angela shook her head and walked over to Brennan. "If you win enough times, we can go get some ice cream after!"

Zack grinned and said, "black raspberry."

Georgia put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him sweetly. He felt a rush of adrenaline and also what normal people cognitively identified as: emotion. He was truly starting to care for her.

"You got it, babe," she said. "All right, can I race a beetle?"

"You got it babe," Zack repeated.

Hodgins unsuccessfully tried to hide a laugh and then shook his head. Zack did not mind. He knew that he sounded ridiculous, but he did not care. Because it didn't matter.

Georgia liked him no matter how ridiculous he was.

But the merriment was quickly stifled when Brennan announced that they had a case. A man was scheduled to die in a little more than a day, and they were going to try to prove that he was innocent. It was pro bono work, on their own time, but neither Hodgins nor Zack would ever say no to something as exciting as a Death Row case. Especially not since Zack had Georgia to impress.

Still, taking the case meant that their date would have to be postponed while Zack ran analysis on old x-rays of the victim. Brennan assured him that it should not take the rest of the evening, but Zack had a feeling that she was only saying that to make him feel better. The gesture was appreciated. The separation from Georgia was not.

"I would not blame you if you want to leave. I probably won't be done with this for a while."

"Oh! Well if you want me to leave, all right. But I have no problem sticking around. I have some papers in the car that I've been meaning to grade. Would it be cool if I just did them up in the lounge?"

Zack knew from previous conversations that Georgia's friend and roommate was not the most courteous of people in regards to the noise level in the apartment they shared. And although she did not say it aloud, nor give any indication whatsoever, Zack _knew_ that when Georgia said she was 'cool' with staying and waiting, she really meant that she did not want to go back to the apartment and would rather do her work at the lab.

He made a mental note to mention his reasoning based on tonal indications and body language to Booth in a victorious manner the next time he saw the older man. It was petty, but Zack had always greatly enjoyed overcoming negative expectations. And Booth certainly had negative expectations for _him_. Specifically his love life.

"Of course you can stay," he said gently. "And I will come see you when I have a break."

"That sounds awesome, babe."

She wrapped her arms around his neck to engage him in a warm hug. Zack was not comfortable with saying that he was _certain_, but he had reason to believe that she knew he understood and was proud of him for being able to interpret her true meaning. Or, Zack reasoned, he was just responding to his feelings for Georgia and his desire to be recognized for doing something which was not typical of him.

Either way, he believed that it was ample reason to be proud of himself.

Georgia pulled back and smiled at him before speaking.

"I love the time we've been spending together, Zack. You're a great guy. And I think that working on this case is really cool of you. If Howard Epps is innocent, you'll be saving a life. If not, you'll be putting all doubts out of the minds of everyone involved. Either way, it's a really good thing you're doing, here."

Zack frowned thoughtfully at her.

"Do you think he did it?"

"I thought you hated it when people jump to conclusions. I haven't seen all of the evidence. I don't know the facts."

She sounded like she was mocking him, but she was smiling to let him know that she was not. It was sometimes difficult to gage what she was thinking or feeling because she was one of those people who liked to pretend that they were mad when they really weren't, and who used a sarcastic tone when they were being entirely serious. He was still a little unsure around her, but he had realized by now that if she wanted him to know she was angry, she showed it in a way that she knew he would understand.

She was quite accommodating in that respect.

"I do _not_ like to jump to conclusions," he said carefully. "But I would like you to share what you _think_."

It was what Hodgins would call a "big freaking deal" for Zack to say something like that. He was not usually interested in other peoples' opinions, especially not on something that he was more technically qualified to answer. This was one such situation. He had the evidence, the facts, the empirical data on his side. She had an admittedly uncanny knowledge of the workings of the human mind.

A month before, those things would not have even come close to equal, in his mind. Empiricism would have undoubtedly taken precedence over the largely subjective conjecture that psychology was comprised of. But after her in-depth analysis of Brennan and Booth on their ice-cream date, he had come to almost respect her intuition. As Angela had attempted to explain it to him, Georgia had the same gift that Booth had. It was a gift of reading the body language of others.

While he still believed it to be an entirely arbitrary field of interest, Zack could admit that she had forged some minor success in cataloging the inner workings of his brain. She often adjusted her behavior to his mood though he tried quite hard to conceal any body language indicators that might make her aware. When he asked her how she knew that he was having a bad day, she simply smiled and said that she was starting to figure him out.

She smiled at him, big and wide. Like the smile Angela smiled at Brennan when Brennan agreed to drinks or dinner or dancing. Like the smile Hodgins smiled at Angela when she wasn't looking. Like the smile that Agent Booth smiled at Dr. Brennan when she made a breakthrough.

It was a smile that meant something good. That was all he knew, and honestly all that he needed to know. He would eventually figure out the specifics. For now, the general feelings were as close as he wanted to be. Maybe closer. He wasn't much good at feelings.

Georgia said, "I think it's important to find all the facts. You should be completely certain before sending someone to death. I think that there's a possibility that he didn't do it, yeah. I wouldn't call it a probability, but it's a _poss_ibility. And that's too much doubt, in my opinion, to have before murdering another human being."

Zack smiled suddenly as he heard the language she was using to convey her opinion.

For the short time that he had known Georgia, people had begun noticing changes in him. They told him that he was starting to see emotions more clearly. They said that he was starting to act less like a Martian. They said that he was letting up on his relentless logical approach and was actually starting to develop somewhat of an intuition about things. He had even _guessed_ in the lab the other day. His guess had turned out to be correct, and Dr. Brennan praised him highly.

Only Angela knew the truth about that incident: the facts had not backed up the line of inquiry he took. It was something that Georgia had said to him about how possessing an inordinate amount of intelligence was not the same thing as being able to apply that intelligence in situations when it seemed to call for it.

It was Georgia who changed him.

But listening to Georgia speak the way she was speaking, he realized that he was changing her, as well.

His logic, his pursuit of facts rather than hunches or inklings, it was starting to rub off on her.

They were learning from each other. They were teaching each other.

Zack thought that his smile would split his face in half.


	17. Angela Is Always Right

Thanks for reviewing, everyone!  
A little side-note: has anyone watched the trailer for the new movie "Adam" starring Hugh Dancy and Rose Byrne? It looks cute, and it sort of reminds me of this story. Especially the stuff with the parents because (spoiler alert) I have some issues planned with Georgia's parents up ahead.

**Chapter 17** – Angela Is Never Wrong About Anything Relating To Women

He walked slowly up the stairs to the lounge.

She was sitting on one of the couches, turned away from him. Her dark waves of hair bounced as she scribbled angry red notes in the margins of one of the papers in her lap.

She sat cross-legged, and as Zack watched she stuck the end of the pen into her mouth. He could not see, but could imagine the frown on her face. Seeing it would make him feel sad.

Georgia did not speak about her job often. She said that she had initially enjoyed the move to the public school system. She enjoyed having fewer restrictions, a more relaxed environment, and more uninhibited children. But she had quickly realized that she _still_ was not happy. Grading papers, assigning homework that would be done shoddily or not at all, and dealing with a classroom full of students who wanted nothing to do with her were her primary concerns.

Zack felt truly sorry for her in a way that he had not felt pity for anyone before in his life.

He had always considered pity to be a largely useless emotion, especially when the situation was one which the person feeling the emotion could not do anything to ameliorate. But he supposed that the existence of his feelings of pity for Georgia's unfortunate situation meant that he cared about her. And not just because she cared about _him_, but because he truly wanted her to have a good and happy life.

He actually could not think of anything that he wanted more than _that_.

She sometimes admitted that she wished she could be more like him. Not emotionless, not – as Hodgins would say – a Martian. She wanted to be like him so that she could be so talented at a job like his. One that "meant something", as she always put it. She sincerely believed that her job was pointless.

"Oh," she would say, waving her hand before he had the chance to protest. "Teaching is a noble aspiration, sure. But these kids, none of them are getting _anything _from me. None of them. I feel so… useless."

He wanted to tell her that he she wasn't useless. But though she understood much about what he said, he did not think that she would understand this particular reasoning. And it seemed selfish to tell her outright that it was a result of the fact that she made him feel like a new person every time they were together. A _better_ new person.

He inwardly sighed.

As if she could sense him standing there (which was, of course, completely foolish and he berated himself for thinking it even briefly), she turned around

"Hi," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I need a favor."

"Oh yeah? What kind of favor?"

She stood. Walked to him. Close. Close enough to touch, even.

He could smell her. He always reacted positively to the way she smelled. There were often interfering scents. Perfume, paint, exhaust, sweat. But there was an underlying smell that he identified as _hers_; the smell of her shampoo.

He hoped that she would never change it. But he did not know how to express those thoughts aloud. He thought maybe it would seem weirder than his usual strange statements. Which, as Angela would say, was "saying something".

He did not like the idea of asking her for a favor, especially not one that painted him in such a pathetic light. Despite the fact that his inability to drive had never been an issue for her, he still hated to bring it up. It was easier to simply go on suggesting that their dates take place somewhere within walking distance of the Jeffersonian without discussing the reasoning behind his choice. Or, oftentimes, disguising the true reason behind a stream of babble about price ranges and salmonella outbreaks that not even _she_ could be bothered to follow.

He had a feeling, of course, that she only pretended not to notice the real reason that he seemed so intent on dining within walking distance of his workplace. But there was also the slight chance that she did not recognize his shoddily-veiled attempts at avoiding the car. And he was willing to keep up the charade on only that slight chance. He of all people knew that a slight chance was better than no chance at all.

But this time, there was no escaping it. He could have asked for a driver, like Dr. Brennan suggested, but then Georgia would be left at the lab alone and if she wished to speak with him, it was likely that she would feel hurt by the fact that he did not tell her that he was leaving. And if he simply went into the lounge and told her that he was, in fact, going somewhere without her, then she would want to come anyway and the driver would be rendered useless.

There were several other scenarios that were possible, but none of them ended favorably. Most of them ended with an emotionally wounded Georgia feeling as if their relationship meant little to him. Hodgins would have suggested that he do what he needed to do and then just make up for it later with flowers or chocolates, but Zack did not think that was the right thing to do. Georgia had never hurt his feelings, so he did not see that there was a reason to willingly hurt hers if there was a way to avoid it.

So he took a deep breath and asked the question that he had built himself up to asking for the past ten minutes.

"I need a ride to Greenbelt Park. To take pictures for this case."

Georgia's smile lit up the entire lab.

"And you're asking me to drive you?"

She sounded like a child on Christmas. Zack would know. He had enjoyed quite a few Christmases as a child.

"Yes. Dr. Brennan told me to get a driver, but she did not specify that they had to work at the Jeffersonian. I believe that was the implication, but she didn't state it. She knows that she has to do that for me, so I believe that if I take you and Dr. Brennan discovers that I did not take a Jeffersonian driver, she will think that I simply did not understand and I will not get into any trouble with her. So I would like you to come with me instead. If you want."

"I would love to," Georgia said sincerely. "This is so cool! This is for the death row case, right? That's awesome."

Zack smiled, but was mildly concerned.

"I don't think this will be very exciting," he warned her. "We just need a better idea of the area in which she was found. We need photographs so that we can map out the geography of the location. It's really quite simple. Even boring."

"Maybe for you. But this is _me_ we're talking about. I sit behind a desk all day and try to talk over the sound of future delinquents arguing about something that happened on The Real World last night. No, taking pictures of a park in the dead of night for a case about a murdered girl and a death row inmate scheduled to die in a little more than a day? _That's_ pretty awesome."

Zack had to admit that when she described it in that manner, it seemed a lot more exciting than he had thought.

And he wondered when exactly he had stopped being excited about the little things he used to love to do.

* * *

They drove to the park while conversing about the case. Zack relayed as many of the facts to her as he could, and she listened and made appropriate comments and asked appropriate questions. He felt a bit like a teacher – like Dr. Brennan or Georgia herself – and Georgia was his student. It was a thrilling sort of experience and he thought that if all students were as attentive and lovely as Georgia, then she would have no reason to feel so pointless in her job. But he did not want to speak that thought aloud. So he asked her about her papers instead.

He did not often ask people about the things that went on in their lives. It wasn't that he didn't care about the people who tried to tell him things, like Hodgins or Angela. It was just that he did not know the appropriate responses. When Angela tearfully came to him because there was no one else in the lab and tried to tell him about her sick cousin, he did not know what to do. So he continued to work while listening to her sobbing story. He wished, in hindsight, that he could have said something to make her feel better. But he didn't. He just continued to work. And when she hugged him, he awkwardly patted her back and said nothing.

Georgia was changing him for the better. Because although he was focusing less on his work – which would have seemed like a death sentence only a few months before – he was starting to see how human interaction was supposed to work. He thought that maybe the next time Angela came to him with a story about a dying family member or friend, he would be able to deal with it in a way that would leave Angela feeling at least a marginally better about the situation. Because that was what friends did. That was what friends were supposed to do.

Angela was his friend, and thanks in part to Georgia he was likely going to be able to act like it.

Which was why he asked about the papers. He knew that they were bothering her. They bothered her because they were poorly written, because the students did not listen, and because they made her feel even more useless than she already felt. He knew all of that already so reason dictated that he did not have to ask. She would only have the same complaints, maybe a few more, but he would be helpless to do anything to help her. Except he knew now from talking to Georgia and from listening to her descriptions of social interactions, that sometimes simply _listening_ to what a person had to say could make them feel better. Sometimes, it did not matter that a person could not do anything to help. Simply saying the right thing could help a great deal.

It was the fact that he seemed to know the right thing to say that got him his first real date with Georgia, after all. That was enough empirical proof of the power of listening that he could accept the logic.

"My papers suck," Georgia said mournfully. "I feel like I'm not getting through to them at all, you know? It's getting harder and harder to get them to do _any _work, and when they do, it's hideously sub-par. I think it's because it's getting warm again. They'd rather be outside in the sunshine than cooped up writing papers. Not that I blame them. I'd like to be outside in the sunshine too, but instead I spend most of my day working on the papers, my lesson plans, grading their tests…God. I hate my job."

She sighed and shook her head. Zack reached out and took her hand. Angela warned against that because she said that he got nervous around women, and his hands sweated profusely.

But he was not nervous around Georgia. And Angela once told him that sometimes a simple touch could help to brighten a person's day. In this case, he thought that touching her hand might be the right thing to do.

It was dark, and she kept her eyes on the road. But she squeezed his hand tightly in hers, and Zack could see her smile.

* * *

They finally pulled into the parking lot where the girl was found, and Zack stepped out of the car with his camera in hand.

"Can I come, too?" she asked hopefully as she turned off the engine.

"I wouldn't want you to be here alone, anyway," Zack replied thoughtfully. "The victim was killed in this area. I know that it was seven years ago, and the killer is most likely Howard Epps and I know that he is in prison so fearing for your safety is not rational. But I still feel uncomfortable leaving you alone in the car."

"Aw, Zack, you care about me," Georgia said, and her voice caught in her throat. She stepped out of the car and closed her door behind her. She walked around the car to him. She hugged him. His arms encircled her soft body. He kissed the top of her head.

She was right.


	18. Having Another Person Present

Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up! Last week was finals week. Thank you all for reviewing!

**Chapter 18** – Having Another Person Present Only Distracts From Work

He stared down at the white numerals spray painted on the pavement at his feet.

He had taken all of the required pictures with Georgia at his side. If she strayed even a little, he was sure to follow. He found that he felt an overwhelming desire to protect her. He knew, of course, that in the event of an attack by a serial murderer, it was probable that she would be of more use than he was when it came to fending off the intended attacks. However, he could not ignore the fact that he was being consumed by an irrational fear for her safety.

Although of course it was not _entirely _irrational. Nothing with Zack ever was. As a child, he had been afraid of the dark. More specifically, the possible natural dangers that could be lurking there. He had mostly gotten over his fear; for example, he was no longer afraid of his closet. But fearing the dark recesses of a small forest? That was _not_ irrational.

He had been relieved when he had finally photographed all that he needed to, and they started walking too quickly back to the car. Then, he had seen the number on one of the parking spaces.

"What?"

Georgia was excited. She did not yet know him well enough for Zack to say she knew him _well_, but she evidently knew the expression that was presently on his face. Many of Zack's friends had commented over the years that he had an identical expression every time he was shocked or surprised by something. In this case, that _something_ was the number on the ground in the parking lot. And Georgia could tell that he had found something big, something important.

Zack could not wait to share. She was going to be impressed.

"There was a number," he said. He tried to keep the pride out of his voice, but he was almost certain that he failed to do so. He often failed to conceal his pride. It was one of the things that people who disliked him found most easy to complain about. "one-two-four-zero-two-five-one-zero-two-two-one."

He pointed to the parking spot.

"Two-two-one," Georgia read. "The last three numbers."

"It was found on the victim's body. The F.B.I. assumed that it was a phone number, but when they called it, they reached a woman who had no connection to anyone involved. It's not a phone number."

They looked at one another, exhilarated. Zack by the numbers. Georgia by the intrigue, most likely, but possibly also because she was impressed that he had managed to figure something out that no one else had been able to in the seven years since the young woman was murdered. Zack would normally berate himself for such obviously egotistical thoughts, but he knew that it was not an exaggeration of what Georgia was thinking. And it was wonderful to feel appreciated for once. He often found himself thinking that his friends, especially agent Booth, did not treat him as if he was one of them, and they often failed to realize that he could see and understand the strange half-smirks they sent each other behind his back. Their judgmental smiles and their shaking heads and their, "we don't ask questions about Zack" attitudes.

He did not think that he was bitter, but it was possible.

"You're a genius," Georgia said breathlessly. "And not just technically."

He did not know what other kind of genius there could be, but he knew that it was a compliment. One that would make sense if she explained it, but would make him feel embarrassment for not having known what she was talking about already. So he simply took the compliment, smiled, kissed her, and then commenced his search for numbers from the sequence.

Georgia said, "I remember that the gate that we went through was gate twenty-five. That was one of the numbers, right?"

"Yes, that was one of the numbers," Zack said excitedly. With another brilliant smile for his girlfriend, he started to run.

They got back to the lab after solving the puzzle (and, of course, after Zack had made sure to call Hodgins in order to brag about his discovery). But first Zack found himself on the receiving end of the most passionate kiss he had ever even come close to receiving. Georgia smiled up at him, flushed, and said that he was the most intelligent person she had ever met.

Zack's mother used to say the same thing, and it would have somewhat of the same effect. He would feel bright and happy and loved. But this was vastly different, at the same time. This was better. This was said without a hint of worry, or doubt, or white lie.

Georgia was confident and Georgia was truthful. She was not afraid for his future. She was not concerned with the fact that he didn't fit in with his peers and thus had very few friends. She thought that the fact that he utilized his I.Q. to the full potential was a good thing.

So did Zack.

He knew that it was socially unacceptable for him to say that Georgia was right and his mother was wrong, but it was the way he felt, and he had never possessed much concern for whether or not he was following the social constructs that he was expected to follow. Sometimes, he caught himself thinking that Georgia had been more helpful for his self-esteem building than his mother ever had. Like Angela, Georgia encouraged Zack to be himself despite what society was telling him to be. Unlike Angela, Georgia had the time and the patience to help Zack learn about social cues, body language, and the other empirically useless talents that he had always felt a desire to possess.

Plus, she kissed him when he did good things. That was a more effective rewarding system than anything Zack had previously thought of for himself.

When they got back to the Jeffersonian, they parked the car and _ran_ into the building. In reality, it was not entirely that important that they move so quickly, but Zack knew that Georgia liked the thrill of it as much as he did. They were both willing to pretend. They were both willing to indulge in the fantasy of grandeur.

Zack did not usually like fantasies because they served only to further remind him of what he did not already possess. But in this case, he was willing to make an exception.

Zack ran to Dr. Brennan and the others on the platform while Georgia stood at the bottom of the stairs, her smile wide and beautiful. She could have returned upstairs to the lounge to continue grading her papers, but Zack knew that she wanted to witness his "big moment".

She had shown him that she cared about him on many occasions, but he knew that inviting her to take part in his assignment was the first time that he had consciously done something to show that he cared about _her_.

He was beginning to understand enough about the inner workings of relationships to know that it meant a lot to her.

So he flashed another smile in her direction and then ran to the computer to show his findings, beginning to speak even before he knew that anyone was really paying attention to him.

"I was out taking the pictures that you needed, and there was a sign and numbers on the ground and I thought, why quasi semi…"

"Zack," Hodgins interrupted. "When you talk that fast, humans cannot hear you."

Zack ignored him and hooked his camera up to the computer. "The number they found on the girl, one-two-four-zero-two-five-one-zero-two-two-one. Everyone assumed it was a phone number, but what if instead of spacing numbers like a phone number, you space them like this." He changed the spacing so that the screen read '1240 25 10 221'. "Twelve-forty, twenty-five, ten, two-twenty-one. I was in the park taking pictures and I saw the parking space was numbered. To get to picnic area ten, you go through gate twenty-five."

He wasn't sure why he looked at Georgia after he finished his explanation. It was possible that it was for support, or maybe recognition. He only knew for sure that he was glad to see her smiling back at him.

"Seems like more than a coincidence," Brennan mused.

"One-two-four-oh. What do those represent?" Hodgins asked. He sounded skeptical. But that was only because he was impressed. Zack knew him well enough to know.

"The time. Twelve-forty. It's when she was going to meet whoever she was meeting."

"Hm, it fits with the timeline. He's weird, but he's smart."

After his somewhat kind words, Hodgins patted Zack on the shoulder. Zack knew that Hodgins was proud of the work he had done. He had a strange way of showing his affection, but Georgia insisted that Hodgins _did_ care about him. Zack was inclined to trust her. Mostly because she had proven to be a nearly-infallible wealth of information regarding friendships and other social relationships integral to the human experience.

But also because he wanted to believe that Hodgins _did _care.

"April Wright was setting up a date," Brennan said, bringing Zack's mind back to the matter at hand.

"Probably with the guy who left the pubic hair on her."

Brennan nodded her agreement, patted him gently on the shoulder, and said, "good job, Zack."

Georgia heard the words. Zack could tell by the way her smile grew. She knew that praise from Dr. Brennan meant a lot to him.

But Zack didn't think she knew that her smile meant much more to him than Dr. Brennan's praise ever would.

He decided that he would tell her that, later. When they were alone.

That would be a nice thing to do.


	19. It's Impossible To Know

Sorry this took a while. I've been home for the summer and have been working. That leaves very little time for writing.

**Chapter 19** – It's Impossible To Know The One Right Thing To Say

It was just starting to get dark, and Zack and Georgia were seated on the park bench where he had gone to comfort her all those weeks ago. She had requested the meeting place, and due to their history with it, Zack thought that it was likely that she was unhappy about something. She _was_ unusually silent, and he could not think of the words to say to fill the silence that she was leaving. Their conversations always had a very specific ratio for talking time: three-to-two. Georgia was not fitting with the usual pattern on this particular outing, and Zack could tell from her quiet demeanor that she had something on her mind. The circumstances suggested that the particular something in question was negative.

It was a few days before Christmas, and the snow blanketed the pond in front of them. Georgia liked the snow. She had mentioned it to him on several occasions, and there were other factors that allowed Zack to see for himself how much she enjoyed the all-encompassing whiteness that the snow provided. Georgia especially liked the way that the snow looked on trees, and the way it looked on the water. Zack had never really noticed any of that before he met her, but he was inclined to agree with the assessment.

Georgia gazed at the pond wistfully for a while before speaking.

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

Her question was tired, quiet. He knew that something was wrong, but he was not yet sure what it was. Without sufficient evidence, he was not comfortable confronting her about the problem. There were so many things that could be wrong, and there were several of them that could be exacerbated by him asking about it.

He tended to over think things, certainly, but he did not think that this was one of those cases. So he played it safe and just answered her question as simply as he could.

"I'm going home to Michigan. To see my family. I have a big family. Three brothers and four sisters."

"Oh my God, really? That's _insane_."

She laughed, and it did not seem forced. He knew that he could be wrong, but he did not think so. He was not often wrong. Not even about things – such as psychology and the reading of body language cues – that he was fundamentally opposed to.

"Yes, it is. Going home is often slightly scary. I don't mean that in a negative way, but there are so many of them. It is hard not to feel intimidated by it. What about your family? Do you have many siblings?"

Georgia smiled sadly and shook her head.

"It's just me and my parents. I usually go home for Christmas, but not this year."

She emphasized the end of the sentence in the way that meant she did not wish for him to ask about it. But Zack was curious and ignored the vocal cue.

"Why not this year?"

She sighed and regarded him with a blank look for a moment before continuing. Zack guessed that she was trying to discern whether he had understood that she did not want to talk about it. He was not often good at deceiving people, especially not people like Georgia, who quickly learned to tell when he was lying or not. But either she was distracted or he was getting better at it, because she did not seem angry when she next spoke.

"My parents decided to go on a cruise this Christmas instead. They're really living up their retirement in the best way they can, you know? Unfortunately, that leaves little time for me. I think they're just shunning me until I give them grandkids to play with."

"That seems extremely insensitive," Zack observed. He put his arm around her shoulder. "I understand why you seem upset."

"Yeah. It's not that big of a deal. I mean, it's not like we get along all that well anyway. Christmas usually ends with me checking into a hotel at the end of the night because I don't want to be around them anymore. This will probably save us all a lot of unnecessary heartache. It just sucks, being left out of the loop until this late in the game."

She shook her head and leaned against his side. Zack took comfort in her closeness and warmth, and the way that their breath mixed together once it was released into the air. There was not much that bothered him, but seeing Georgia so unhappy was having a decidedly negative effect. He wished that he knew the right thing to say to her to make her feel better, but he did not know, and likely would never know.

He was greatly improving in regards to interaction with Georgia – although admittedly he had not become much more proficient when it came to communicating with others – but he had not improved as much as he would like. He believed it was not too subjective to note that she was understanding his idiosyncrasies at a much faster pace than he was coming to understand hers. Logically, that did not make sense. _He _was supposed to be the strange one. She was supposed to be simple.

He was not certain if he liked the fact that she was not, or if it terrified him. Or if they were indeed one and the same.

He mulled over a few possible comments before settling on one that seemed best – although it was a largely subjective decision. He did not have any empirical data to suggest that it was the right thing to say. But he did not have the empirical data to suggest that it was the _wrong_ thing to say, either. He was quickly learning that when it came to social interaction, especially with someone that one cared about, there was an uncomfortable amount of estimation involved.

So, he took a shot in the dark and said, "it would seem to me that it is your parents who will be left out of the loop. They will regret not spending Christmas with you, I'm sure."

She smiled at him gratefully and laced her arm through his.

He understood that she wanted to be as close to him as possible. He did not know why, but he understood. Because he often felt the same way about her.

So he put his arm tighter around her shoulder and squeezed her to his side.

"You're sweet, even though I know you're going to say that you're not trying to be sweet and it's just a fact. It's not a fact, and I appreciate you being less than objective for me. I know that takes a lot out of you."

Zack grinned because it was the truth, and because he found it extremely attractive that she had a sense of humor about his emotional limitations. Most people who cared about him did not. Although he thought that he would try to apply some of the knowledge he had gained from dating Georgia when meeting with his family again. They would be sure to be surprised by how much he had changed, even though he had not changed significantly enough for any of his friends at work to notice.

But his family was his family. They would notice the most insignificant of changes, certainly.

"You are good for me," he said quietly, seriously. She looked up at him and put her hand on the side of his face, just above his jaw.

"You're good for me too, Zack," she whispered.

"I hope so. I am trying."

His hand gently moved back and forth over her arm. He knew from personal experience that those particular movements could have a calming effect. The sensation of being touched, of being shown affection, was one that humans needed. It was one that everyone needed, no matter how much people like Zack tried to pretend that they didn't.

He had always known that, but it was only lately that he had truly started to understand it.

"Tell me about your family, Zack. You don't talk about them much. What are they like?"

Zack smiled down at her sadly. He had no way to be sure because psychology was a largely subjective science, but he believed that she was trying to dissipate her sense of loneliness by becoming involved in stories about his family and their relationships. He was more than happy to oblige. He was eager to make her happy again.

"Well, they're very loud. And very active. None of them are anything like me at all. I am the youngest, which perhaps lends to my childhood naivety. My brothers and sisters were always very protective of me, and as a result I was very sheltered. My mother sheltered me as well. But not nearly as much as my sisters did."

He ran a hand over his hair and remembered the time that his sisters sat him down at the kitchen table and insisted that if he cut his hair short, no girl would ever look twice at him. It had taken his mother years before she finally understood why her son had developed a rather acute fear of the hairdressing salon, or indeed a pair of scissors clutched in the hands of a hairdresser anywhere.

"Is it fun having older siblings?" Georgia wondered. Zack shrugged.

"I don't know. I suppose it can be enjoyable. My brothers often showed their affection by pranks on me throughout my childhood and adolescence, however. But of course only _they_ were allowed to tease me. In one instance, they beat up a boy twice their collective sizes when they learned that he was bullying me on the school ground. I have never forgotten that."

"Sounds like they really care about you."

"They're my family. Yes, they care about me. Of course."

She smiled and started to play with the zipper dangling off of his jacket pocket.

"I'm not so sure anymore that my family cares about me."

"That's illogical. They are your parents. They love you."

"I hate to correct the master of logic, but I think _your_ statement is illogical. My parents are the opposite of warm. I have two aunts and they practically raised me because my parents were always at work, always too busy to deal with me. I was a mistake, you know. A big one, too. When my dad was angry, he used to say that I was lucky I was even here. He said that if my grandfather hadn't been so religious, I wouldn't be."

"I do not understand the connection between your grandfather's religion and your existence."

"He was saying that the only reason I'm alive is because my mother was too afraid to get an abortion. She thought it would piss off her father."

Zack was silent for a long moment as he tried to imagine his father – a lovely, paternal man – ever saying anything like that. It was impossible. The simple fact of the matter is that he never would.

"Your father is a bastard for saying that to you," he said decisively.

Georgia laughed and ducked her head a little.

"Maybe. But it was just the truth. At least he was being honest."

"He was being unnecessarily cruel. You do not deserve a man like that as your father. You deserve a good family."

"Thank you. That means a lot."

As he looked down into her wide blue eyes and her sad frown, he made up his mind in less than a minute.

"Come with me."

"What?"

Her eyes widened and she pulled away from him a little bit. Not to back away because of the physical closeness, but rather to get a better look at his face. He knew that she was trying to read his facial expression to see if he was joking.

"I want you to come with me. To meet my family and to spend Christmas with me. I know that it is fairly early in our relationship, but I do not believe that it is too early for me to ask you to visit. My family would love you. Although in the interest of full disclosure they would love you no matter who you were because you have managed to catch my interest, which no one else has been able to do for a while. You are my girlfriend, and my mother would be so happy to hear about you that she would not care if you were the rudest, most unintelligent woman on the face of the planet. But you are not. You are gracious and wonderful and beautiful and very intelligent despite having only obtained a master's degree instead of a doctorate. If you came with me, it would make me very happy. And I believe that it would make you very happy too. Everyone would be happy. Which is what Christmas is about. It's about being surrounded by people that you love."

She was silent for a long while, and water gathered behind her eyelids. Zack was not entirely certain if it was just a physical reaction to the lack of lubrication on her eyeballs as a result of her long stare, or if she was crying.

"Zack, I don't know," she said softly. "Christmas…Christmas is a family thing."

For the first time in his young life, Zack knew that there was a right thing to say. He knew that there was something so objectively perfect for the conversation and for his relationship that it erased all other options from existence.

And so he said it.

"Exactly."


	20. Overwhelming Socialization is Always Neg

I'm sorry this took so long! I completely lost track of the days.

Also, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! There was a lot of response to the last chapter! I'm so glad that everyone seemed to like it.

**Chapter 20** – Overwhelming Socialization is Always Negative

Before he met Georgia, he would not have known how to handle himself in such a situation. Although even with her influence, he was feeling decidedly overwhelmed.

He was sitting on the floor of Angela's apartment, drinking a beer while he watched Angela and Georgia try on costume after costume after costume. Multiple versions of elves, reindeers, and confusingly attractive versions of Santa Claus were all for some reason a part of Angela's wardrobe. It was admittedly engaging, but far too overwhelming for Zack to handle for much longer. They spoke at the speed of light – faster even than Zack did when he was nervous – and used terms and words that Zack had never heard before despite his expansive education and overall database of knowledge. It was as if he was listening to people speak in a different language. In a way, Zack supposed that was exactly what was happening. He did not know the language of young, outgoing women. He only knew the language of science.

He desperately wanted to know what they were talking about, but not so desperately that he could actually manage to work up the courage to ask. They seemed to be in their own alternate world of glamour and excitement. Zack could not bring himself to disturb them.

So he just sat and did what he did best – observed. He watched the way that each woman vied for the approval and the attention of the other. It was a competition, in a way, but unlike most human competitions it was not governed by a need for power or money or sexual appeal. It was a competition to see which woman could make the other feel better about herself. Angela and Georgia were both very strong, confident, and independent women in public, but their interaction was surprisingly vulnerable and open and insecure.

From a purely anthropological standpoint, it was fascinating how differently they behaved in their private and public lives. From the standpoint of a confused young man, it was terrifying.

He was beginning to regret inviting Georgia to attend the Jeffersonian Christmas party with him. He had believed that it would be a fun event and besides, she liked his friends and was starting to form bonds with them beyond the rather simplistic one of just simply being acquainted with Zack. The Christmas party seemed to be a good way to help strengthen those connections.

He just did not foresee the lengths to which they were going to go in order to do that. And he _certainly_ did not foresee that he would be sitting on the floor in Angela's apartment with no idea what to say or do or think.

He was just becoming comfortable with Georgia, but it had been thrown off by this new social situation. Putting him in an intimate setting with a work colleague without explicitly telling him how he was expected to behave was having a decidedly negative effect on his nerves.

He clenched his sweaty hands in fists at his sides.

Finally, Angela and Georgia stopped speaking to one another and turned to face him. He forced himself to focus and not freak out.

"We're going with the elves," Angela said, nodding decisively. Georgia attempted and failed to keep a straight face as she posed in the doorway of the closet.

"They're cute, right?"

Zack nodded.

"Yes. Although I found _all_ of the outfits you wore to be very appealing."

"Ah, a geek in love. Only _you_ could use such flowery terminology to describe how smoking hot your girlfriend is." Angela sighed disparagingly and walked into the other room while Georgia laughed at Zack's concerned expression.

"Don't worry, I know what you mean even if you don't know how to say it," she said comfortingly. "And thank you for the compliment, Mr. Addy. It's very well appreciated."

Zack recalled with no small amount of chagrin the time that he thought she was using 'Mr. Addy' as a formality. He had actually seriously told her to call him Zack' before he realized that she was being – as she described it – silly. He now understood, of course, that occasionally she did things like that. He quite enjoyed it, actually. And he was beginning to be able to understand when she was being 'silly' and when she was not.

That was something that normal people did.

He was not so naïve as to assume that Georgia was instilling any sort of normal social interactive behaviors in him, but because of her presence he was feeling more and more like it was a somewhat concrete hope for the near future. And that was closer to normal than he had ever been.

"I'm very glad to see you in such a happy mood," he said earnestly. "You have looked so sad recently. I don't like it."

"I had a pretty good day today. One of my students wrote the most _beautiful_ paper. Plus, hanging out with the two of you is great. Where's the third Musketeer, by the way?"

"He's out with some Amazonian blonde," Angela remarked, walking back into the room with three glasses and a bottle of wine. "It's just the three of us tonight. I gotta say, it's kind of fun just hanging out and relaxing for once. Even though a few months ago I probably would have said that Zack was the last person I would be hanging out with outside work."

Zack was not entirely sure what she was implying through that statement, but he did not let himself be bothered. Georgia was happy. It did not matter if Angela was being snide or sarcastic.

Georgia was happy.

"So what exactly happens at Jeffersonian Christmas parties?" Georgia asked, making herself comfortable on the floor next to Zack, leaning into his side and wrapping her arm around his waist.

He liked the way she occasionally treated him as if he were a life-sized stuffed toy. She informed him often that she enjoyed 'snuggling up' to him because the curves of his body fit in exactly the right way with hers. He would normally refute such an obviously false statement – to say something with so much inherent subjectivity as if it were an empirical fact was not the proper way to discuss that kind of phenomena – but he believed that there was at least a marginal amount of truth to it. When they sat on her couch to watch a movie and she curled into his side, he always felt as if they were two pieces of a shattered skull. There were many other possible pieces that could be attached, but only _two_ pieces fit together in such an exact, specific way.

He thought that it would be an incredibly romantic thing for him to say to her one day, but at the present time he was reluctant to say it. She was a very understanding woman and she thought that he was interesting nearly always. He did not think that she would react too negatively to his use of that particular simile. Still, there was enough of a risk involved that he did not think that he should say it. After all, their relationship was becoming increasingly important to him. He was not willing to say _anything_ to her that could possibly result in its termination.

But Georgia's question hung in the air over him, and so he tried to think of the best way to answer it. It was difficult to explain without mentioning Angela's various humiliations throughout the years. They were, after all, usually referred to as the 'life of the party'. And he knew that while he would certainly mention said humiliations later when he and Georgia were alone and not in Angela's presence, he was not comfortable divulging that information without Angela's permission when Angela was so close by. But Angela could apparently sense his hesitation, because she quickly stepped in and answered for him.

"It's fine, Zack. You can tell her." Then, despite her command, she turned to Georgia and began to explain on her own. "I'm the Jeffersonian Christmas party punching bag. Every time I go to _any_ company party, it becomes an excuse to get drunk and run around and embarrass myself. And I can tell you right now that this is not going to be an exception. I live for the alcohol consumption that these things offer."

"I will probably be joining you," Georgia admitted. "I'm going home with Zack for Christmas, and I'm nervous as hell."

"Sweetie, you're a _girl_. You have breasts and a baby maker. His parents will love you."

"I said the same thing," Zack put in. "Well, not using that precise terminology, but I had the same basic message. I don't think my parents will mind any of the personality quirks that Georgia seems so bent on fixing before the end of the week."

"Oh? Do tell, Georgie. What kind of 'personality quirks' is he talking about?"

"There's the fact that I talk way too much when I'm uncomfortable, which is almost always. And the fact that I tend to get drunk at all family functions. It's kind a reflex left over from my own family. Plus, I'm a super morbidly curious person who tends to ask awkward questions like 'oh, how did he die?' and 'eaten by a shark? Could you describe it in more detail?' Which, of course, makes me look like a total psychopath."

"I have already been well briefed on keeping you away from the alcohol no matter how badly the first impression goes," Zack reminded her.

"That's my boy," Georgia said with a grin.

"Are you really that worried about it?" asked Angela.

"No, not really. Well…maybe. Yeah. I don't know. It's just hard for me. I've never dated a guy long enough for meeting his parents to be a viable option."

"I've never met a guy's parents, either," Angela remarked. "But that's because I'm usually attracted to emotionally distant guys who either have dead parents or daddy issues."

Georgia grinned, and Zack could see that she was no longer showing signs of nervousness. That was good. He did not like it when she was nervous. It made him feel nervous as well, despite his awareness that it was a completely irrational reaction.

Georgia continued with, "me, I've always ended up dating guys who initially seem normal, but then turn into complete psychos. I don't know what it is about me. I attract the mentally damaged ones. Which is why I knew I was safe when I started dating Zack and he told me right off the bat that he wasn't normal. The guys you have to worry about are the ones who like to pretend they're normal until they get you into the bedroom and then ask if they can take a dump on your back."

"_What_?" Zack asked in a horrified tone. "Am I correct in assuming that to 'take a dump' is a colloquialism for defecation?"

Angela was interested in another matter altogether.

"Did you let him?"

Georgia and Zack both looked at Angela incredulously. Angela looked curious, Zack noted. And even _he_ could be disturbed by that.

"No, I did not let him! Have a little more faith in me than that. I'm a curious person and I love learning new things, but there is absolutely _nothing_ appealing about having someone, as Zack puts it, defecating anywhere on my body. Stop grossing me out with your curious face. I'm sure it's not pleasant. Anyway, the point of this whole segue is that I've never stayed with a guy long enough to actually start thinking about meeting his parents, much less putting him through the hell of meeting mine. But Zack and I have been dating for a little while now, longer than most of my relationships, and I know that it's time to make that step, but I'm just so _nervous_. I want to do it, don't get me wrong, Zacky. I'm just so sure I'm going to screw up."

Zack smiled. He liked the fact that she was nervous to meet his parents. He was nervous for her to meet his parents as well. Although it was not for the same reasons that she was afraid; he did not fear that she would screw up. He feared that _they_ would. There were times when he considered his family to be overbearing and unnecessarily complicated. They were certainly not rational people. It was hard to predict their patterns of behavior, because more often than not he found himself failing in his educated estimations as to how they would react to a circumstance.

He did not want them to drive Georgia away.

Georgia and Angela began to talk again, but Zack was hardly listening. He enjoyed watching Georgia's mannerisms as she spoke. She moved her hands about in an unconscious attempt to illustrate her words. Her fingers danced across the air and almost looked as if they were playing an instrument such as the piano. It was mesmerizing.

_She_ was mesmerizing.

"I should probably get going," Georgia said finally, reluctantly. Zack realized then that they had been sitting there for almost an hour. In that hour, he had not contributed once to the conversation. He had, as Hodgins often referred to it as, "mentally checked out".

That did not happen often. It happened only when he was entirely content with his surroundings and did not feel the need to use his mind in any concrete way. He had just listened to the conversation transpiring between Georgia and Angela, and he had enjoyed every second of it.

That had not happened outside of the Jeffersonian since he was a very young boy.

* * *

A little more than twenty minutes later they stood at the door to Georgia's apartment. Georgia kissed him for a long time. Then, she asked, "do you want to come up?"

Zack was confused. Hadn't Georgia said back at Angela's apartment that she should get going? Why would she leave Angela's apartment, only to invite him up to visit for more social interaction?

It took an additional few seconds, but eventually he understood. And he smiled.

He kissed her again.


	21. Causing A Biological Contamination

**Chapter 21** – Causing a Biological Contamination Makes People Hate You

She was dressed as an elf. They were both dressed as elves. Zack had known ahead of time that they would be dressed in those costumes, but he was still enjoying the circumstances. He was also greatly amused by the reactions their outfits were getting from the other employees of the Jeffersonian. Hodgins had finally been able to make him understand why it was validating rather than alarming to realize that other men and women were sexually attracted to his girlfriend.

He tried to think of something to say to her when he first saw her standing in the door to the room where he and Hodgins were working, but for what was probably the first time in his entire life, he was rendered speechless. Not only because she was beautiful, though. It was true; she was. But it was more than that. It was an unempirical, illogical feeling that nothing could go wrong in his life as long as she was standing there in that doorway and watching him with that smile on her face.

The improbabilities of that statement were incredibly overwhelming and impossible to ignore. But still he could not escape it. His mind would not allow him to return to his normal level of rationality and empiricism. He was not entirely certain if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was only certain that it made him feel _normal_. And that was what he had always wanted, to some degree.

When Georgia left her post at the doorway and walked into the room, Hodgins stopped working and turned to take in the sight. Zack thought that maybe Hodgins was starting to regret saying that having a supremely attractive girlfriend and watching other men stare was a very satisfying way of feeling _better_ than them.

Feelings of envy were only natural, Zack could assume. For though Hodgins was, as Booth noted, "quite the ladies' man", and though he had many dates lined up throughout the week, he had never had a steady girlfriend. And if he _had_ a steady girlfriend, Zack thought that it would be difficult for her to be as wonderful as Georgia. But that was one of those thoughts which one did not speak aloud, and so he just smiled at Georgia and sent a subtle sidelong look in Hodgins' direction. He hoped that Hodgins understood the reasoning behind that particular facial expression.

Hodgins had informed him that it was more satisfying if other men understood just how improbable it was for a girl like Georgia to like him. Zack had chosen to ignore the insults inherent in that particular statement and instead had listened only to the positives. It was another thing that Hodgins was likely beginning to regret. Zack doubted that he had predicted how successful his attempt at further humanizing Zack would be. It was likely that he was figuratively kicking himself for introducing Zack to the concept at all.

"Aren't we looking ethereal tonight, Georgia," Hodgins said, accompanying his compliment with a low whistle. Zack frowned at him incredulously.

"Ethereal?"

"Yeah. I mean, look at her."

Zack sighed and said, "I should have thought of that."

Georgia laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Hodgins," she said. "And Zack, no pressure on the thesaurus. Anything you call me is good enough."

He smiled at Hodgins smugly. Hodgins just laughed. Georgia, meanwhile, ignored them both.

"So what are you doing in here? Angela made some vague reference to cute boys doing nerdy things, and I think we all know how much I love _that_."

Hodgins whistled again, but this time it was different and more under his breath than before. It meant something different. Zack just didn't know _what_.

"Well, I think we know what kind of drunk _you_ are," Hodgins remarked. "Lucky you, Zack."

Zack wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but Hodgins' tone suggested that it was a good thing. He decided to take it at face value rather than ask questions. It was safer that way. There was less potential for embarrassment.

"I'm trying to fix the voice recognition on my robot," he said instead, to Georgia. He and Hodgins were not actually doing real work, although he thought that perhaps Dr. Brennan was under the impression that they were. Zack was working on his personal robot, while Hodgins was carefully brewing a generous amount of pure alcohol in order to – as he put it – 'liven up the festivities'.

They were obviously both very important scientific ventures.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" Georgia asked, taking a sip of whatever was in the cup she was holding.

Zack turned to the robot and yelled "stop!" The robot did a somersault. "Stop!" It did another roll. "Turn!" It stopped.

Hodgins and Georgia laughed uproariously. It was probable that they were laughing at his comical expression of frustration rather than the robot's overall ineptness. Although he supposed that both could be quite humorous. He was just less adept at seeing the humor in the robot's plight when he was so exasperated.

Hodgins then remarked, "your robot reminds me of you. You tell it to turn, it stops. You tell it to stop, it turns. You ask it take out the garbage, it watches reruns of _Firefly_."

Zack glared at him.

"After I fix the voice recognition protocols, this is going to blow those gomers at MIT away."

Hodgins shook his head and walked over to check on the alcohol.

"This is pretty cool," Georgia said, stepping closer to examine the robot. "I'd like to say that it's _amazing_ that you built something like this, but to be honest, it's not all that surprising. You _are _a genius."

"You know," Hodgins said bitterly. "Everyone around here thinks you've been good for Zack, but I'm the only one who sees the truth. He was already a pompous jackass. You turned him into an egotistical bastard."

Zack knew that Hodgins was only joking, so he laughed. But at the same time he had to admit that there was some truth to that statement. He had always been assured of his mental acuity, but only through Georgia was he able to discover his proficiency in other areas, as well. He had never felt so confident. And that was why he firmly believed that she was good for him. Confidence was normal. Men like Agent Booth were overflowing with it.

Then again, Georgia liked _him_. Not Agent Booth.

He was more than just slightly smug about that fact.

"If this is him being an egotistical bastard, then I don't think that anyone has anything to complain about," Georgia pointed out.

Hodgins rolled his eyes and changed the subject with, "yeah, we got about half-a-liter of pure alcohol here. Dump it in the eggnog and we've got the best Christmas party in history."

"Hey, don't change the subject. I think I know why you have a problem with Zack feeling good about himself. You're just jealous that you used to be able to brag about being the one who's good with the ladies, but now _Zack_ has a girlfriend and _you_ don't."

She arched her eyebrows at him. Hodgins recognized the challenge and rose to the occasion.

"Oh yeah? A steady girlfriend who he hasn't even had sex with yet."

"If that were true, it would be a low blow," Zack pointed out dryly. It was a fairly tentative attempt at a sardonic reply, and he believed that he managed to pull it off adequately.

Hodgins gasped.

"If that were _true_? You didn't tell me you two had sex!"

"I urinated a half hour ago. Did you want to hear about that, too?" Georgia asked mockingly. Hodgins' offended and disturbed expression turned into one of horror.

"Did you just say urinated? Oh my God, Georgia's turning you into a human being, and you're returning the favor by turning her into a robot. This is so freaking weird. But seriously, did you guys really have _sex_? Actual sex? _Normal_ sex?"

"Several times between two days ago and now," Georgia affirmed proudly.

"Well…Jesus. How was it?"

Zack hurriedly whispered, "you don't have to answer that."

"It was good. Great, even. Naomi from paleontology was clearly the problem in that coupling."

Hodgins scoffed and walked out of the room, unable to deal with the Twilight Zone-like environment any longer. Zack waited until he was gone before turning to Georgia.

"I appreciate your lie."

"I wasn't lying, Zack. It was lovely. Awkward, yes. Different, definitely. But already, we're both improving. We're compatible, both sexually and otherwise. That's good news. And it's only going to get better."

"There is the old saying that practice makes perfect," Zack mused. "I've never given much thought to it because to be 'perfect' is a logical impossibility… but I think it's an appropriate thing to say in this situation."

"You're damn right it's appropriate," Georgia chuckled. She kissed him on the cheek again and the bells on her slippers jingled as she walked out of the room. "Now, come on. Let's follow Hodgins and continue grossing him out with stories about our new sex life."

She sashayed out of the room with an airy twirl that made her skirt fly out around her. The bells on her slippers, on her hat, all went crazy.

This was what Christmas was all about.

Zack thought that his heart was going to burst.

* * *

"Is that pure alcohol?"

Dr. Brennan was glaring at them in that way she had. It always made Zack feel like a baby animal being approached by a hawk.

He gulped, "yes, Dr. Brennan."

Hodgins sighed with exasperation and glared at Zack. Georgia just laughed and tried to hide it. She knew of Zack's secret fear of Dr. Brennan's disapproval. In fact, she had admitted to being intimidated by Dr. Brennan as well. She said that it was hard to see her as anything other than his boss; the woman who could effectively end his career if she wished. Of course, Dr. Brennan could appear to be at times a very cold and commanding woman. It was no wonder that Georgia was intimidated by her.

But Brennan was not as angry as her tone had initially indicated. She even grinned a minuscule amount before saying, "you really think Goodman is going to let you spike the eggnog after the Fourth of July fiasco?"

Hodgins paused and looked down at Brennan thoughtfully. Then, he turned to Zack.

"Uh, we may have to rethink."

Zack nodded hastily.

"I want to hear this story," Georgia whispered. Zack nodded again, but Dr. Brennan spoke up before they could make their exit.

"Zack, I need you to clean these bones," she said, barely looking up from the body of the man on the table below. Zack tried to employ the trick that Angela pulled on him in Wong Foo's the first time he went out with Georgia. It was a method of non-verbal communication by which the individual employing the technique indicated a target of conversation with their eyes and then transferred their gaze to an object of interest. In this case, the target of nonverbal conversation was Dr. Brennan. The object was Georgia. The hope behind the method was that he would not have to speak aloud the thought that he did not want to do work because he would rather spend time with his girlfriend. Instead, the idea would be communicated through eye contact and body language.

He looked at Georgia as pointedly as he was able, then turned to look at Dr. Brennan, then looked at Georgia again.

If Dr. Brennan understood his intended point, she simply did not care. She stared at him blankly.

He was not very good at reading body language, especially cues from facial expressions, but he had to guess that she was conveying the idea that she did not care about personal matters because he was supposed to be working. To Dr. Brennan, work was far more important than personal matters in any case.

It used to be true for Zack, as well. It wasn't until that exact moment that Zack realized how much his habits had changed.

"Now?" he asked pitiably. Dr. Brennan's expression did not waver. She did not say anything. She simply stood and continued to stare at him. It was probably intended to convey some sort of intimidating message, but Zack was unable to decipher what that message might be. The only message that he got from it was that it was indeed intimidating.

However, he was almost certain that the message would essentially amount to 'yes'.

"Burn," Hodgins laughed. He grabbed Georgia's arm and started to flee the scene with her, but Dr. Brennan was not finished.

"And I need _you_ to search the clothing for insect evidence," she said.

Whether the smugness in her tone was in retaliation for laughing at him or not, Zack did not know. It was unlike Dr. Brennan to be petty and unprofessional, but due to his relationship with Georgia Zack had become exposed to many different aspects of interpersonal relationships. Thus, he had realized that Dr. Brennan could be incredibly defensive of him, sometimes. He appreciated it immensely in such situations.

"Jeez, Bones," said Agent Booth disbelievingly. "Merry Christmas."

Angela entered the lab area and tapped her slippered foot on the ground irritably.

"Okay, you people listen to me," she said. There is a party going on upstairs, okay? A Christmas party. We're going up there. We're going to talk to some people. We're going to sing some carols. We're going to drink some eggnog." She looked at Booth. "_You_ are going to kiss me under the mistletoe on the lips." She looked at Zack and Hodgins. "I might kiss you guys under the mistletoe, too." She looked at Brennan. "Maybe even you in a festive, non-lesbian manner. But we are _going_ to that party."

Brennan looked up at Angela, but did not move. Angela groaned. Zack and Hodgins took that as a sign that they were not going to get out of doing their work despite an admirable effort on Angela's part, and so they slunk away to do it, leaving Georgia standing alone on the walkway.

* * *

And then a few minutes later they were racing and shoving each other to cram into the decontamination shower before their skin melted off or their lungs filled with their own blood. There were many other potential scenarios, but Zack found he was most frightened when he considered the possibility of the aforementioned two. The alarm was ringing in Zack's ears, and he hoped to God that whatever was in the bone was not going to kill anyone.

Especially not him. Or Hodgins. Or even more especially Georgia.

Just as he and Hodgins were stripped down and jammed into the shower together in a most humiliating turn of events, Georgia ran into the room.

"What the hell happened?"

"Biological contamination," Zack answered, trying his best to shield himself from view behind Hodgins. It was one thing, being naked around her when they were in bed together. It was another thing entirely to be displayed under fluorescent lights in the shower with another man.

"Well clearly!"

She was yelling. He had never seen her so angry.

"It was my fault," Hodgins said, even though it wasn't. Not really. Only partly. Zack realized immediately that Hodgins was covering for him. It made him feel very positively towards his friend.

"I don't care whose fault it was! Are you guys okay?"

And then they both realized that she wasn't mad. She was scared.

For them.

For him.

Suddenly, he felt that he was okay with melting skin.


	22. No One Feels Sorry

**Chapter 22 – No One Feels Bad For People Who Cause Biological Contaminations**

The man delivering the verdict from the television screen was an administrator of some kind. Zack did not even know his name. It had never seemed necessary since the man was not in his field and was connected with the museum in a way that did not immediately require Zack's knowledge or attention. He would not have said that he _regretted_ not knowing the man prior to the present incident, but he felt that the man's judgmental stares would have been somewhat _less_ judgmental if he had known Zack like the others did.

Judgmental stares never used to affect him, but on this occasion, they did. It was understandable, Zack thought. He and Hodgins were, after all, seated on the couch in Brennan's office, half-naked and soaking wet.

"The pathogen is coccidiomycosis."

Judgmental stares and unexplained half-nudity were the least of his problems, Zack realized. He stole a glance at Georgia's worried face.

He almost didn't want the nameless man to explain it to her.

His eyes locked with Hodgins' momentarily. Hodgins nodded. Zack thought that perhaps Hodgins had interpreted the expression of worry on his face and was agreeing with the sentiment that it would be better if Georgia never had to know. If she were protected from the knowledge. But they both knew – or, at least, Zack did – that Georgia would never stand for that. She was not the kind to be protected. Not if there was something that needed protecting from.

"Valley fever?" asked Dr. Goodman lowly.

"It was picked up in the scanner in the discharge vent at Mr. Addy's station."

"What's Valley fever?"Booth asked.

"Yeah, is it dangerous?"

That was Georgia. Seated between Zack and Hodgins on the couch, her fingers wrapped around his like a suture. Like she was holding him together. Zack thought that it was admirable of her to try and bring him comfort, but it saddened him to think that she would soon find out that he and Hodgins were not the only ones in danger.

He idly noted that _her_ hands were the ones that were sweating, this time.

Before the man whose name Zack had never bothered to learn could answer, Zack did. He did not know why he did it. He certainly did not want to be the one to tell Georgia and Booth that they were possibly in danger. He did not want to be the one to tell them that it was possible that they might not make it out of the lab. He did not want to be the bearer of such terrible news.

But still he answered.

"It's a fungus that can lead to pneumonia, meningitis, spontaneous abortion." He paused, looked at Georgia. Looked at Brennan. Looked at Booth. "Death."

Zack never used to be able to tell when other people were afraid. When his father had suffered a heart attack and he had been sitting with his mother in the waiting room, he had not realized that his mother's body was shaking because she was afraid.

He had believed that it was the cold.

But in that moment, sitting beside Georgia on the couch, he could tell that she was consumed with fear.

She did not say the words. She did not even shake like his mother had that night. But he felt all of the muscles in her body tense together. He felt her hand sweat, and he saw her eyes dart from one place to the other. Rapidly. Like she couldn't decide what she wanted her last sight to be.

Her eyes settled on him, and he freed his hand from her grip. He put his arm over her shoulder. He pulled her close to him and laid his head against hers.

In the past, he had only initiated physical contact with others when it was clear that their emotional state would benefit from it. A kind hand, a tender kiss, or a caring hug were often more helpful than a hundred rational statements that meant absolutely nothing to anyone but Zack himself. And usually, the physical contact was only initiated once Angela or his mother or someone else normal pointed out that it would be helpful. But on this occasion, he had not only initiated physical contact because he had interpreted Georgia's fear and knew that her emotional state would greatly benefit from the closeness, but had done so because he felt that _he_ would benefit as well.

He had never done so before.

He was afraid for _Georgia_. He was afraid of what might happen to her. It was a rational, natural reaction for a man who cared so deeply about another human being. Which meant that it was entirely new for him.

He had never been truly afraid for someone before. He had not been afraid for his father – the statistical probability of his father's survival based on various factors had indicated that his father had a ninety percent chance of making a full recovery – and despite his very finely-tuned sense of self-preservation, he had never before been afraid for himself. Not even when the bullying got so bad that the beatings were leaving scars and the teachers were at such a loss that they began to turn the other way rather than intervening – they were right, of course, it would have been pointless. The bullies had started to follow him home, at that point.

But at twenty-four years old, he was finally afraid for himself. Not of death – although he was not _so_ far removed from normal human emotions to say that he was not afraid of dying. No, he was afraid of losing Georgia. He was afraid of _Georgia's_ death. He was afraid of facing his life without her in it. They had not been together for months or years or decades, but he found it difficult to imagine a time before her presence. To imagine his life without her was to imagine a life of emptiness.

He finally understood why his mother had been shaking.

It _did_ feel a little like the cold.

"The alarm sounded shortly after Mr. Addy cut into a human bone," Dr. Goodman said calmly. "That must have been the source."

"Was he following autopsy protocol?"

The man in the Santa suit frowned at Zack. Zack thought it was possible that the man was accusing him of something. He returned the frown and narrowed his eyes into what he hoped was an indignant expression.

Brennan's verbal response to the implied accusation was clipped and defensive. "Of course. However…"

She looked at Hodgins, who sighed and spoke in a low and submissive tone.

"I was drinking an eggnog."

The man in the Santa suit pulled down his beard. "And now he's there with you, breathing the same air."

Zack predicted that Hodgins would try to lighten the mood with a joke. He often did when he felt that he had messed up in some way.

"Hey, I got into the decontamination shower with Zack. Haven't I been through enough hell?"

If Zack was not so concerned for the lives of his friends and his girlfriend, he would have been smug with his victory. However, his mind was quickly returned to the matter at hand when Georgia broke her silence.

"Are they going to be okay?" she asked with her voice trembling.

She usually didn't like to speak up among Zack's colleagues when they were having discussions related to their professional lives. She was fine to converse with them outside of the Jeffersonian, but while they were in the building she usually kept quiet until it was time to leave. She had confided in Zack on more than one occasion that until the lab coats were off, she didn't feel like she had any _right_ to say anything. She didn't feel accepted. Despite the fact that they were all "nice people", she always felt that she was left out by her lack of further education. She was a very astute woman who only needed things to be explained once before she understood – unlike many people who had obtained only a Masters degree in an English concentration. But that was not enough for her.

In short, she felt like Agent Booth. Agent Booth was a very intelligent man in his own field; the field of human emotions. It was his job to read the facial expressions and body language of people who held the clues to putting a case together. Zack was on his way to obtaining two doctorates and he did not possess those skills. Thanks to Georgia's presence in his life, he was beginning to see that there were different kinds of intelligence. But generally people only understood the traditionally accepted way of thinking – more education meant more intelligence. And despite the fact that Zack's friends did not feel that way, Georgia _did_. For her to speak up in the middle of a discussion meant that she was truly worried for him.

At the realization, Zack felt an odd mixture of happiness and sadness.

Booth looked back at Hodgins and frowned.

"Is he contagious?" he asked. Zack was not certain if Booth was worried for Hodgins or angry at him. It was often hard to tell with Agent Booth. So many of his facial expressions looked like anger.

The man in the Santa suit paused for a moment before answering Agent Booth's question with, "Dr. Hodgins may have inhaled the spores, yes."

Zack noticed that Georgia was holding Hodgins' hand as well.

"Okay, it must suck to be Hodgins right now, but the rest of us; we didn't inhale. So it's okay that I go, right?"

Booth's hopeful tone sparked something in the back of Zack's mind that he had not felt for a very long time. It was a defensive, territorial feeling. An angry feeling.

Booth was not concerned that Hodgins may be dying. He was only concerned with leaving the Jeffersonian and whatever pathogens were inside of it. Zack, for the first time, felt something less than respectful adoration for the man.

Agent Booth may have been a charming person who was an infinite well of wisdom when it came to women, but he was behaving very selfishly. Zack frowned at him.

Dr. Goodman frowned, as well.

"Dr. Hodgins may have exhaled the spores all over us."

Agent Booth sighed. Zack's frown deepened to a glare.

The man in the Santa suit spoke again.

"We have no choice but to impose quarantine. Valley fever can be fatal and we can't risk a pandemic. Just calm down and let us handle things from this side."

"Calm down?" Georgia muttered under her breath, and she moved closer to Zack's side. Zack held her more tightly. But he did not think that _any_ amount of physical contact could help in such a situation. It was unlikely that he would be able to fully comfort her until they were sure that they were going to survive.

Agent Booth continued his show of displaced anger with, "anyone besides me worried that a guy dressed like Santa is in charge?"

The man frowned and said, "merry Christmas" before breaking the video connection. The monitor on which his face had been displayed flickered to black.

"Okay, you know what; if this is fatal, I will shoot both of you."

Booth pointed to Zack and Hodgins angrily.

"Oh, like this is Zack's fault," Georgia growled defensively. Brennan nodded. They were evidently both feeling very protective of him. Zack was glad, because he was unable to find the words to defend _himself_.

"Maybe you guys could go get dressed," Angela said, keeping the peace but also looking extremely irritated. Zack did not have to possess even a rudimentary understanding of human emotions to be able to get _that. _Hodgins and Zack both stood. Zack was feeling very frustrated by the way things were going. He could not believe that he was being blamed for something that was quite obviously not his fault. He had been following protocol to the last letter. If he had known that Hodgins was not doing the same, he would not have cut into the bone until he was sure that Hodgins' mask was secure. It was unfair that Booth and Angela seemed to be assuming that he was somehow involved in the issue that they were currently embroiled in.

But he didn't know what to say, and so he just walked out of the room with Hodgins. Georgia quickly followed them.

"So what's going to happen?" she asked nervously. "Has anything like this ever gone down before?"

"We're going to be fine. It's all a precaution. I didn't inhale anything."

That was Hodgins. But Zack did not agree.

"It's possible that you did inhale and just did not realize it at the time."

"No, I'm serious. We're going to be fine. Everyone's just worked up over nothing. It's just protocol."

"That's illogical to conclude so early in the process. I admit that it is unlikely that we will be infected, but there is enough of a possibility that we should at least be _concerned_ for ourselves."

And then Hodgins did the only gesture which Zack fully understood. He looked at Georgia, then at Zack. Then back at Georgia again.

And Zack knew what he was trying to say.

He had never felt so incompetent.

Obviously Georgia needed to be reassured. She did not need to be told probabilities. She did not need to be told statistics – which he had not yet gotten to, thankfully. She needed to be told that they would be all right.

"Oh," he said blankly. Hodgins quickly exited the scene and left Zack alone with his girlfriend.

"Are we going to be okay?" she asked.

Zack rationalized the situation. She had to _know_ that what Zack was saying was the truth. She had to know that no amount of reassurance on his part would make their fate any less frightening. But still she was willing to pretend that she did not know in order for him to tell her what she already knew to be false: that everything was going to be all right.

It was utterly confusing and senseless, he knew, but he knew that he had to tell her. She deserved as much.

So he said, "we're going to be fine."

"Promise?"

Her tone was hopeful. Cajoling, almost. Zack had to estimate that she wanted him to say the words even if she knew them to be wrong. Because maybe if she heard the words then she could pretend that they were true more easily than if she was simply trying to fool herself.

"I don't promise. But I can reassure you that we will most likely be okay."

Georgia smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his body firmly. She did not mind that he was still wet from the decontamination shower. It was a nice feeling to realize that she did not mind.

"I guess that's the most I can hope for, huh?" she asked jokingly. Zack smiled.

"I'm sorry I could not promise. But I do not want to lie to you."

"Sweetheart, I'd take the truth over a false reassurance any day."

Zack made a mental note to inform Hodgins of this sentiment later.

"The truth is that I am worried. For you. If you contract the disease, I will be…inconsolable."

It seemed like the right word to use, and apparently it was. Because Georgia's smile lit up the room.

"Ditto," she said lovingly.

Zack did not know what that meant. Or why she was wearing a smile as if she were sharing a private joke with herself. He just smiled in return and pretended to understand.

And pretended to not be afraid.


	23. Zack and Psychology Do Not Mix

Sorry about the lateness. I truly didn't realize how long it had been since I had updated.

**Chapter 23: Zack and Psychology Do Not Mix Well**

Nearly an hour later, the situation was well under way to being resolved.

At least, that was Zack's hope.

He did not like to hope, because he often found that fostering such a random and illogical emotion could only lead to grave disappointment down the road. Still, on this occasion he thought that it was appropriate and also entirely inescapable to hope that they would all survive the unfortunate incident that had transpired. Although he had not been so far removed from reality by his fears that he believed his hoping would have any impact on the matter whatsoever.

Were she present, his mother would have told him to pray. Were she sober, Angela would have told him to have faith in the people around him. Zack, he didn't like to have to rely on anyone but himself. And at the present time, he could not do anything to better their situation. Prayer and faith would not work. Only time would tell. His ideas about life and God were not usually so distressing. Zack found himself regretting his superior intellect.

All of the potentially-infected employees – plus Georgia – were all lined up and preparing to receive their shots. The _hope_ was that the injections would counteract any of the effects of coccidiomycosis that may have already been introduced to their systems. It was not an entirely effective treatment; however, Zack felt comfortable enough with his knowledge of the cocktail to say with seventy-six percent certainty that it was better than doing nothing.

The man who had previously been wearing a suit meant to represent Santa Claus was administering the treatments. He had changed into an infinitely more appropriate hazmat suit and was explaining the process to those who did not understand how the treatment worked. Namely, everyone but Zack, Hodgins, Dr. Goodman. Even Dr. Brennan was mostly in the dark – figuratively speaking – when it came to the particular pathogen.

"This is a cocktail of four anti-fungal drugs including amphotericin B. Orally, you will be taking ketozonazone, fluconazone, and hydroclonazone."

"That's great. Then we can leave."

Agent Booth was still anxious to be out of the lab. Zack did not understand why he was not treating the incident with the amount of fear and respect it deserved. It seemed that his only objective was to be free from the Jeffersonian. The way Agent Booth was acting almost made Zack believe that _surviving_ was at a lower priority level (of course, it was a ridiculous thought, but Zack found it amusing and also thought it was a somewhat accurate description of Agent Booth's current mental state). He knew that the older man did not find his company – nor the company of most of the Jeffersonian workers barring Dr. Brennan and perhaps Angela – altogether pleasant. Still, he had never before shown such reluctance to be around them. Zack understood, to a degree. He wished to be free of the lab as well, only because that meant that they were uninfected and were not at risk of dying. But he was not quite so intensely intent on walking through the front doors and bolting into the night.

Zack, for what was probably the thousandth time since he had met Agent Booth, found himself very confused about the man's actions.

Fortunately, he did not have to be the one to explain that coccidiomycosis did not work quite as quickly as Agent Booth evidently hoped. Zack knew that it would take several days before it was able to be determined if they had been infected by the spores or not. Hodgins did, as well. But neither of them had the chance to say it. The man in the hazmat suit – possibly feeling emboldened by the illusion of physical distance from Agent Booth that the plastic viewing shield of the suit offered – was more-than-willing to explain it to him.

"We won't know for a couple of days if the fungus took hold in your system."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're saying that we're stuck here over Christmas? Look, you know, I have places to go. You know, I have obligations."

The man in the hazmat suit was also more than happy to give Agent Booth his injection first. Booth winced.

Dr. Goodman smugly informed Booth that, "we all have obligations."

The next few minutes were filled with blame-throwing and shot-taking. Everyone seemed to believe that it was someone else's fault that they were stuck there. Initially it seemed that Hodgins was to blame, but then it was transferred to Zack, then to Angela, Booth, Brennan, Dr. Goodman, and even Georgia. Although it was impossible to prove who had actually been the most blameworthy of them all, Zack could not help but hold the grudge against Agent Booth.

Georgia agreed, if the way she rolled her eyes every time he opened his mouth was any indication.

The man in the hazmat suit – obviously eager to return to his _own_ holiday celebrations – finally interrupted them.

"Ladies and gentleman, we'll have sleeping bags delivered. Please have your loved ones call me, and we'll set up some kind of safe quarantine visit on Christmas Day. Oh, and be prepared for side effects."

Dr. Brennan offered the list before Zack had the chance.

"Nausea, fever, insomnia…"

"In very rare cases," continued the man in the hazmat suit, "euphoria, dream state, mild hallucinations."

"I'll take that, please," Angela said with one lifted finger and a humorous smile.

Zack understood that the euphoria would be a pleasant experience, although personally he did not much enjoy having his rational state altered in any way. But he would not want to experience hallucinations. Having his vision be impaired to the point of not knowing if what was in front of him was truly what was physically present was one of his biggest – albeit most irrational and unlikely – fears. He would rather be stuck with the nausea.

The man in the hazmat suit was not done explaining the damage that their minds might be forced to endure. Zack found that he was beginning to dislike him. He understood that it was unfair because the other individual was, after all, simply delivering the bad news rather than having anything to do with its cause. Still, it was awakening in Zack a very fierce and strong feeling of general disgust.

"Early symptoms mimic a common cold."

Georgia looked nervous. Zack was very unhappy that he had become accustomed enough to her facial reaction to worrisome events that he was able to recognize it. If it was up to him, he would never be able to recognize any bad emotions that she might have cause to display on her face.

If it was up to him, she would never be unhappy.

If it was up to him, she would never have to be afraid for her life.

"What if it manifests?" Dr. Goodman asked levelly.

Zack envied Dr. Goodman's calm demeanor. He could only assume that Dr. Goodman was, in fact, putting on a brave front in order to appear strong for his employees. Zack wished that he could do the same for Georgia. Instead, he was fairly certain that he _looked_ just as nervous as he very strongly felt.

He looked at Dr. Goodman when he answered, "first treatment protocol involves extremely painful injections into the base of the brain."

Georgia reflexively put a hand to the base of her skull.

It was not where the injection would go. But Zack did not have the urge to correct her.

Instead he just looked at her. Looking as nervous as he felt. He watched the way her hands were shaking.

He wrapped his fingers around hers.

"You know what? I never realized how pretty all this shiny stuff is."

That was Agent Booth as he stared transfixed at the walkways hung with tinsel above him.

It was clear that Agent Booth had drawn the hallucinations and euphoria.

"That is so not fair," Hodgins sighed.

The man in the hazmat suit just smiled, and he made his way out of the room as quickly as he could. The possibly-infected employees stood and watched him go until the doors closed behind him. Then, they turned to each other.

No one quite knew what to say.

So they did what they did best; retreated to their own areas of comfort. Dr. Brennan returned to examining the remains on the autopsy table. Angela fled to her office where she would no doubt try to capture her tumultuous emotions in a watercolor or a sculpture like she so-often tried to do. Hodgins would pretend to need Angela's help for something, and would spend too long hanging around in her office and making excuses not to leave. Agent Booth and Dr. Goodman were more difficult to figure out, because they did not have a set pattern in the lab. They were both outsiders who, in the absence of any pressing matters, left the space as soon as they were able.

If Dr. Brennan were in her office, then Zack would know for certain that would be where Agent booth would be headed. The fact that Dr. Brennan found comfort in human remains was making the situation more difficult to predict based on pre-formed patterns. Because Agent Booth did not like human remains, particularly when Dr. Brennan was examining them. Georgia had attempted to explain to him on several occasions that Agent Booth had trouble reconciling the duel Dr. Brennan's in his life. According to her, there was Dr. Brennan the "kickass" forensic anthropologist who Booth respected and admired as his partner. And then there was Temperance, the woman he was falling in love with.

Zack did not quite think that she was correct in her belief that Agent Booth was in love with Dr. Brennan. It seemed to him that they had absolutely nothing in common aside from their shared desire to put criminals away. Still, both Georgia and Angela insisted that there was something there. And they were his most trusted resource when it came to all things of and related to relationships.

Normally, he would not be entirely open to taking the advice of another person when he did not believe something to be true. He felt very strongly that he should form his own opinions. His own observational capabilities were very well defined, and he should not have had to rely on the observational capabilities of anyone else. However, it was different with them.

It was different with Georgia.

* * *

Later that night, after the others had gone to their separate corners of the lab to sleep, Georgia and Zack made their way up to the lounge.

"I'm not tired," Georgia had said quietly when Zack and Hodgins had made the move to turn in for the night. It was possible that she did not see the appeal of sleeping on an autopsy table on which there had been a body only a few hours before. But it was also possible that she was frightened. Hodgins said that it didn't matter which it was. Either way, he had to go talk to her.

So he did. He took her up to the lounge, which always looked very pretty at night but was especially beautiful with the Christmas decorations glittering along the walkways.

"Wow," Georgia whispered as she sat heavily on one of the stuffed couches. Zack sat beside her.

"I know that I'm not usually the most astute observer of aesthetic beauty, but I thought you might like it up here. The view is quite…" He looked at her face in front of him, bathed in shadows but highlighted by the dim lights nearby. He was reminded of their first interrupted date, the one that had been unfortunately curtailed by the existence of mummified remains at the club. He had looked at her face in the relative darkness that night, and he had been happy. Tonight, he was afraid. He was afraid of many things. But also, he was happy. Because it was not possible to escape happiness as long as she was with him. So he sighed and finished, "it's quite beautiful."

"Zack, I'm sorry."

The apology came out of nowhere. Zack was not very good with social situations, but he was almost certain that this would have been strange even if he had been a normal person.

"What are you sorry for? It's my fault that we're here."

"Well, that's debatable. But I'm just sorry for freaking out like I did earlier."

"I did not notice you freaking out at all."

"Oh. Well, I guess that's good."

She smiled and looked relieved, but Zack knew that her words were false. The fact that he had not noticed Georgia 'freaking out' was not good. It was not good at all.

"When did this happen? I'm sorry I did not notice."

"It's okay. I just…I'm not used to this kind of thing. In my field, the most exciting thing that happens is…well, okay, I guess when Nestor was killed that was kind of similar to this in the sense that there was this feeling of _danger_. And I know, I know I act like I'm all ready for adventure and all of that…but I'm not. Zack, I'm a freaking English teacher! My first job was with the most white-bread and impregnable institution in the world. And where I work now, sure, sometimes there are kids who get a little scary when I fail them. But still, all the same, it's not that bad. It's not _this_ bad. I'm just, I'm not cut out for this. And seeing how you guys all handled the situation. Booth, joking like it's no big deal. I mean, did he even _hear_ the thing that Dr. Hanover was saying?"

"Dr. Hanover?"

"Yeah, Hal Hanover, the guy who gave us our cootie shots."

Zack grinned suddenly. He had not meant to, and he could not explain why the urge had even come over him, but still he did it. He grinned until it hurt his face, until he was actually _laughing_.

Georgia regarded him with a quizzical expression, but after a moment she grinned as well. It was most likely a reaction to the confusion that she felt. Zack did not blame her. Even _he_ was confused. He was not entirely sure _why_ he was laughing, either. Still, he knew that he had to try to explain.

"I'm sorry, Georgia. But, you know his name. You know his name and you don't even work here. I work here. I am here more than I am ever anywhere else. In fact, I would not find it hard to believe that he knows _my_ name because I am here so often. But I could not remember his name. And when you said it, just now, it did not even sound familiar. I think I'm a bad person."

"Oh, sweetheart! No, that's not true. You're not a bad person. Eccentric, yes. Oblivious, definitely. But you're not bad. You're just _you_. You're aloof and awkward and socially inept, but honey, that's expected. You're a genius."

"I don't want to be _just_ a genius, though. I want to be a genius _and_ a good person. A person who people want to be friends with. I don't think it's so wrong to say that most people don't want to be friends with me."

"Most people have no idea what they're missing."

She leaned in and kissed him on the lips softly. Zack felt a desire to say more comforting words to her. It was only fair, since she had found the words for him.

"You are wrong, you know. When you say that you aren't built for this. You are reacting in a very natural way to distressing news. No one can fault you for that. Not even Agent Booth."

Georgia smiled at him and sighed at the same time. She put her hand on his cheek in the spot that always felt best. She looked deep into his eyes.

"We're going to be okay."

The words were surprising to hear from her, considering that she was the one who had evidently been 'freaking out' earlier. Still, despite the fact that he knew they were words of hope and not words of fact; he felt their intended comfort. He knew that she meant for him to feel better, and he did.

It did not make any rational sense, but he did.

"We're going to be okay," he repeated.

She kissed him again and then leaned back against the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

"Think your family's going to hate me and blame me for getting you stuck in here?"

"Is this because of what Agent Booth said? About you distracting me from my work?"

"Well, as annoyingly superior as he was acting when he said it, the man had a point."

"I was not distracted. I am perfectly capable of compartmentalizing. Dr. Brennan needed me to get a job done, and I did it to the best of my ability. It is not your fault that Hodgins chose that exact moment to not comply with regulations. Agent Booth should not have said that."

"I know, I know. But he was just being irrational, emotional. He was pissed and needed _someone_ to blame. From what you've said about your family, they're kind of the same way, aren't they? I mean, they're not all rational and empirical like you. And if they hear what happened from Hal or whoever fills them in on the situation, then maybe they'll, I don't know, think that I was to blame. It's easier to blame the son's new girlfriend than it is to blame the son."

Zack did not understand _why_ it would be easier. Or why Georgia was so worried that his family would blame her. They were not quite as rational as he was, certainly, but they were not the kind of people who would look for someone to blame even if said person was innocent.

So he guessed. Another thing, much like hope or physical conflict, that he tended to avoid at all costs.

"Are you worried because your own parents are people who would blame you?"

It was a long shot, and Zack knew that it was likely that Georgia would be offended. He had learned from an unpleasant incident with his college roommate that it was only all right for a person to say negative things about their _own_ parents. As soon as someone made a perfectly rational and reasonable observation based on the construction of a pattern about another individual's parents, then it became offensive. Zack was not sure why, but he _was_ sure that it was true. The fact that he had been given a new roommate a few days following that particular incident was proof enough for him. Especially when juxtaposed with another similar occurrence in the seventh grade.

But Georgia was not offended. She was not hurt. She looked at him for a long while. Her face was not quite so easy to read. Usually, that meant that she wasn't exactly sure _how_ she felt. Alternately, it could also be a myriad of other emotions that Zack had not yet learned to interpret.

Finally, she spoke.

"You know, that might be true. For someone who puts so little stock in emotions, you're good at figuring them out."

"I took a psychology course to fill a requirement in my second year of college. I am not proud of it, but I have retained a good amount of knowledge. While mostly useless, it is admittedly a large part of how I learn about other people. I believed that possibly you were afraid of my parents because of negative past experiences with your own."

"Well, my parents aren't like, the Addams Family, but they're not the Cleavers either."

"I actually understand the references. I recently read a thesis on television sitcoms and their influence on the American perception of the family and how it has warped traditional values. A very interesting study, if you would like to read it. But also, I understand your meaning."

"That _does_ sound like an interesting read. If we survive the next few days, I'll have to take a look. But seriously, I'm not _afraid_ of your parents. I just really want them to like me. And that probably has a lot to do with the fact that my parents aren't too fond of me. I think I ruined their dreams. I think my mother's pregnancy and the fact that she couldn't end it made her bitter. And I know that they love me, but they just have a funny way of showing it. I don't want your parents to reject me like they did. I think that would suck."

"That would be unfortunate, but there is a very high probability that my mother will like you. My mother likes most people. She is very friendly and open with everyone. I do not know why I did not inherit her social skills. It is unfortunate that I did not, because she is quite confident with herself. Also, she loves anyone who is fond of me. Agent Booth, she most likely would not like. You, she will love."

"Hopefully you're right, or else this is going to be the most awkward quarantined Christmas ever."

Zack did not say the words, but he was already thinking about what he could do with what he had in the lab. What he could do to make the Christmas they were facing the best and least awkward quarantined Christmas ever.

But first, he needed Hodgins' help.


	24. Zack Needs Advice About Most Things

**Chapter 24: **Zack Needs Advice For Most Things

"Stay here while I go get our sleeping bags," Zack said in what he thought was a 'smooth' manner. He hoped to excuse himself without suspicion from Georgia's presence briefly so that he could ask Hodgins what he should do in order to make their stay in the lab considerably less awkward than it was already destined to be. He was not confident in his ability to pull it off, but Georgia just nodded and snuggled deeper into the couch. Zack took that as a sign that she did not suspect his reason for leaving her, and he hurried down into the room where Hodgins was attempting to sleep on one of the spare autopsy tables.

"Where's the lady friend? Please tell me that she found an escape route through the vents and you came to fill me in."

"I left her in the lounge. I have a problem."

Zack pulled himself into a seated position on the autopsy table next to the one on which Hodgins was lying. He made a conscious effort not to engage in what Georgia referred to as his 'tell', the nervous tic of biting his lip when he was uncomfortable or unsure of something.

Hodgins evidently did not need the tic to understand that Zack was nervous. He shrugged and spoke in a comforting tone.

"Okay. Well, look, just close your eyes and think of Tricia Helfer, and it'll spring right to life."

"I know you are joking, but I don't understand what it is supposed to mean. However, given that you mentioned a woman who is very attractive, I am going to assume that your joke was sexual in nature, and I would like to point out that I do not appreciate it. My sex life with Georgia is highly adequate."

"Oh, well if it's _adequate_…"

"Do you not know the meaning of the word ade…?"

"Just stop right there. I'm too tired to talk circles around you tonight. What's the big issue?"

"I am afraid that this experience will prove to be unpleasant enough for Georgia that she will want to dump me when we get out of here."

"I wouldn't exactly blame the girl. This is _no_ way for _anyone_ to spend Christmas."

"You are my friend. Say something supportive. I do not need to be reminded of the reality of the situation."

"Wow, she's really been getting to you, huh? Usually you tell me that my support has no effect on the outcome of anything in your life."

"I am beginning to see that I was mistaken in assuming that the feeling of self-confidence gained from the support of a friend is entirely useless. With Georgia's support I find that I am able to constantly surprise myself in work and other areas of my life."

"Okay, sure. Whatever. Look, I'm going to try to talk to you like a human being right now, and it's not my fault if you don't understand any of this. I'm not going to lie to you. She might take this as a sign that your relationship isn't going to be easy. Or maybe spending three days together will make her see all the things about you that annoy the crap out of the rest of us. So you're going to have to spice things up a little. You're gonna have to make this the most exciting three days of her life."

"That was what I had in mind, but how exactly do I go about doing that? I am not an exciting person."

"I've always wanted to give it a go in the decontamination shower. It might be a little uncomfortable, a little messy, but just imagine her naked body pressed up against the sides…"

"Hodgins!" Zack exclaimed, alarmed at the low and inarguably sexual tone of Hodgins' voice. "I did not mean…I didn't think that…"

"What? Having sex in new and different places is the most exciting thing you can do for a girl. She'll be all over that! Trust me; it's the way to go."

Zack frowned and stood up.

"Maybe I should have gone to Angela, first," he sighed. He ignored Hodgins' indignant gasp and quickly headed towards Dr. Brennan's office.

* * *

He was pleased to see that Dr. Brennan was working on the man from the fallout shelter. That meant that Angela was alone.

He enjoyed his talks with Dr. Brennan very much, but she was too much like him to be of any _real_ assistance in such a situation. And it was easier to talk about personal problems when his boss was not in close proximity. It always felt as if she were studying him. As if she were confused as to how he believed he would be able to maintain a normal relationship, with his personality being what it was. He felt judged, and judgment was not what he required. He was interested in something a little more helpful than that.

In a professional and academic setting, judgment was a good thing. It motivated people to do their best. In personal situations, he found that it had the opposite effect.

So he snuck into Dr. Brennan's office, careful to avoid attracting her notice. He closed the door behind him and turned to face Angela, who was reading a worn-out paperback book.

"Angela," he said quietly, so as to not startle her. "I need your advice."

Angela turned to face him, a grin spreading across her face. It reminded Zack of the cat from _Alice in Wonderland_, a film which he had failed to understand as a child. Still, the comparison seemed fairly accurate.

"Sweetie. Sit."

She tossed the forgotten paperback to the side and patted the couch's cushions dramatically. Zack sat as far from her as he could. He suddenly felt as if he should have just taken Hodgins' advice and made love to Georgia in the shower.

"I am afraid that Georgia is going to be bored here, and she won't want to continue dating me once we are able to leave."

Angela laughed. Zack was not sure why. Angela was a keen observer of human nature most of the time. She should have been able to tell that he was legitimately distraught over his current predicament. But instead, she laughed.

Finally, she noted the frown lines in his forehead and the perturbed grimace he was sporting. She put her hand on his knee, stifling her laughter.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry. But Georgia isn't going to leave you. She looks at you like you're the sun."

"Is that a good thing?"

"That's a _very_ good thing. Zack, Georgia isn't going to leave you because of this. If anything, it'll strengthen your relationship."

"But arguably, this is my fault. It is my fault that she is going to spend her Christmas _here_."

"And you think she's mad about that? I know she's talked to you about her past Christmases, and she told me a little bit, too. I don't think Christmas in the lab is as bleak an experience as you're making it out to be. I think that as long as you're here, she'll be fine."

Zack was not so sure.

"I want to do something special for her. Something so that she will know that I care, and that I'm sorry. Whether you think I should be sorry or not."

"It definitely couldn't hurt. And I think it's sweet. Really. She'll love whatever you decide to do. But right now, I'm gonna turn in for the night. If you still want to talk about it tomorrow, just come find me and we'll figure something out."

Zack was beginning to feel frustrated. Hodgins and Angela were supposed to be the people he could go to with problems and could leave five minutes later with said problems solved. They were his _normal_ friends, the people who would tell him if he was doing something wrong. They were the people who always had ideas about what he should and should not do with his personal life. And now that he was making progress, now that he was struggling to hold onto the most normal woman he would probably ever get a chance to date, they were not nearly as helpful as they had been in the past.

He was very confused. And beginning to feel desperate. So he did what he never thought he would do; he headed towards Angela's office to ask Agent Booth for assistance.

* * *

Agent Booth was not normally the type of person who one could ask for help in anything. Especially not if one's name was Zachary Uriah Addy. It was a simple and unavoidable fact that Agent Booth was not fond of Dr. Brennan's favorite grad student. Zack liked to think that it was possibly an alpha male reaction to a perceived threat, but he found it hard to imagine that Agent Booth considered him a threat in any way.

No, Agent Booth disliked Zack for many reasons, but Zack was not as concerned about going to ask for his advice as he normally would have been. Agent Booth, after all, was on the receiving end of some very potent drugs. Drugs that were blessedly giving him a sense of euphoria. A sense of love and camaraderie with everyone around him. The blaming and the complaining were far behind him for the time being, and Zack intended to take advantage of it.

He walked into Angela's office where Dr. Goodman and Agent Booth were staying for the night. Dr. Goodman was sleeping on the couch, while Agent Booth had taken up residence on the floor. Both looked up with surprise when he walked into the room. Agent Booth sat up with a smile. Dr. Goodman closed his eyes and sighed with what was evident even to Zack as relief.

"Oh, thank God," Goodman said.

"Hey, Zacky. What're you doing here? Where's the special lady friend?"

Agent Booth was much friendlier than Zack had anticipated. It made him highly uncomfortable. It was like he had awoken in an alternate universe where things were not as they were supposed to be. But it was for Georgia, he reminded himself, and so he stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I have a problem, and since you are proficient with women I thought that you might be able to help."

"Tell me you don't have another girl lined up!" Booth exclaimed. "That would just be crazy."

"No! No, there is no other girl. However, I'm afraid that after this weekend there may be another _man_. For her. I am afraid that she is going to wish to terminate our relationship because of my part in the events that transpired earlier today."

"Well you _did_ breach protocol by cutting into the bone with Hodgins in the room," Dr. Goodman pointed out. Zack was not cheered by his tone.

"I am not worried so much about her opinion regarding the breach in protocol as I am about the fact that I have contributed to what will likely be a very uncomfortable Christmas for her."

"Uncomfortable? You mean if she contracts the disease?"

"I suppose that would make matters worse than they already are, yes. But even if she doesn't contract the disease, spending Christmas weekend here is not what we had in mind. And although she was nervous to meet my parents, I believe she was looking forward to being able to travel out and see them. I am afraid that she will be disappointed if she is not able."

"No, no. No way. Georgia _loves_ the lab!" Agent Booth exclaimed.

"I have to agree with him on this one. Georgia does seem to be quite fascinated with the lab and what you do. Perhaps you could get some work done and show her your process. After all, you have plenty of time to make sure that she understands."

Zack was not positive, but he had a feeling that Dr. Goodman's 'advice' really had more to do with Zack getting work done than it had to do with making certain that Georgia did not dump him by the end of the weekend.

"I have already explained many of my processes to Georgia throughout the time we have been dating, and she is a fast learner. She remembers the things that I teach her. Nothing that I have now is anything that she hasn't seen. I don't think it will work."

Dr. Goodman frowned and looked down at his hands clasped in his lap, evidently either engaging in religious reflection or trying to figure out a way to help Zack in his endeavor. Perhaps with a less selfish solution than before.

"Look, Zack, buddy, Georgia doesn't need any special treatment. Georgia is, she's totally alien. She thinks you're God's personal gift-wrapped gift to her. There's no way she's dumping you over _this_."

"Once again, I have to agree with him," Goodman put in. Agent Booth gestured wildly to Goodman, nearly hitting the other man in the face. Goodman shot him an exasperated glare that Agent Booth did not see.

"See? Zacky boy, you have a good girl who thinks you're the coolest thing since…I don't know…something really weird that you like. Mummified remains or _Battlestar Galactica_ or something."

"Your eloquence leaves a lot to be desired," Dr. Goodman said with a heavy sigh. "Why don't I step up to this figurative plate. Mr. Addy, as you know I try to avoid getting entangled in the personal lives of my employees as much as is possible. I do not relish being bombarded with excuses as to why people perform inconsistently, and I do not enjoy being expected to care about minute problems when I have my own to deal with. However, because your relationship with Ms. Regan is so…interesting, I have noticed that it is very strong. So strong, in fact, that I do believe it would survive whatever hardship was thrown its way."

His words were comforting. There was no denying that. There was possibly even some truth to them. Zack was very aware of Dr. Goodman's policy of ignoring his employees' personal reasons for sub-par work. Angela and Hodgins were often very upset by it. Zack did not understand why. He thought that Dr. Goodman's policy was a very effective tool when it came to motivating people to do their assignments. He would have preferred a more lenient employer, but if he was speaking as a purely objective third party observer, he would have commended Dr. Goodman for his professionalism.

Still, Zack was not quite sure that Dr. Goodman completely understood what he was trying to say. And although he was reluctant to say anything else because he was genuinely worried about what Agent Booth might say under the influence of a hallucinogen, he felt that it was a very desperate time indeed.

"I have been reassured of Georgia's affections for me by everyone I have gone to for advice. But I do not feel that the data has been conclusive enough for me to determine that Georgia will not leave me at the end of this weekend. I would appreciate advice on how to prevent or at least delay a breakup caused by this quarantine. I want to make these three days very enjoyable for her."

"Talk about your Christmas miracles," Agent Booth muttered. He and Dr. Goodman chuckled loudly together as if they had said something very funny indeed. Zack was not quite amused, although he understood the joke they were trying to make. He just did not find it very entertaining.

He supposed that maybe he was letting his personal feelings get in the way of the matter. After all, it was his life they were laughing about. The only woman in his life – discounting his mother – who had ever been able to handle his strangeness and take it in stride. Zack was not sure what he would do if he did not have her. And the fact that the possibility of her presence in his life ceasing to be was a damning one. He almost could not bear the thought.

And they were laughing. Dr. Goodman was married to a woman who, as far as Zack could tell with his limited experience, seemed very lovely and kind. Agent Booth was the kind of man who could get nearly any women he wanted, and who enjoyed himself in doing so. They had everything that they needed in order to be successful in relationships, and they were laughing at him.

He did not usually feel insulted. It was a useless emotion, and it only served to hinder one's self-confidence in times when it was arguably needed the most. But on this particular occasion, he could not rationalize what he was feeling. He could not put his emotions aside and look at the situation in an empirical way – why were they laughing? Did they have reason to laugh? Were they not emotional beings driven by their impulses and not the logic that Zack's mind was fueled by? – He could only sit silently and glower at them until they both realized that he was taking their derision in a much different way than he normally did. Agent Booth grew slightly more serious, perhaps sobered by the realization that he had transcended past mere joking and had begun to be, quite simply, cruel.

"Zack, buddy. Look, it's nothing personal. It's just that, you know, Georgia's a one-in-a-million girl for you. She hasn't looked at me twice since the day we met, but she's got eyes for you twenty-four hours a day. She's not put off by the awkward thing, and she's really, really hot."

Booth, who had actually been doing pretty well for himself with the advice for once, giggled and lay back down on his pillow. Then he muttered something about how amazing the drugs were. Zack frowned and looked at Dr. Goodman, instead.

"Mr. Addy, I think what Agent Booth was trying to say before he was sidelined by his euphoria was that Georgia is not a girl that we understand. No one can understand her but you. And if you really think about it, I believe that you know what you should do."

And Zack realized that he was right.

* * *

He returned to the loft with his sleeping bag and Georgia's held carefully under his arm. Georgia looked up from her silent observation of the Christmas lights strung up nearby, and she smiled a watery smile at him. Zack set down his things and knelt next to the couch, next to her.

"Georgia, I know this is not an ideal situation in which to find oneself near Christmas, and I am very sorry for my part in it."

"Oh, Zack, it's…"

"Please, please let me finish. I went to Hodgins and Angela and even Agent Booth and Dr. Goodman asking them if there was something that I could do to make you happy this weekend, because I did not think that I knew how to do it on my own. But I realized that I was wrong. I know how to make you happy because you _are_ happy. With me, I mean. And I do not understand it because it is not logical in the slightest, but I accept it as something that is far beyond my comprehensive abilities. Like the seeming necessity of makeup or the mentality of the Alpha male. None of it makes sense to me. But I know that you care about me, and you enjoy spending time with me. And I know that you will not leave me because of this. You are a positive person, and you will find a way to look at this in a positive light and turn it into something to be enjoyed rather than something to hate. And I believe that is why I love you."

Georgia's eyes widened and Zack knew that she was happy. He could not read it on her face or in her body language, but he knew. It was an empirical fact. It was data. He did not second guess himself, and he did not feel the need to remind himself that he was not very good at seeing things such as emotional responses. He just knew.

He leaned up and took her face in his hands and then he kissed her. He tasted salt and knew that she had shed a tear. But he knew that it was a happy one. Because then she pulled his face away from hers and she spoke.

"I love you, too."

They made love on the floor of the lounge.

Hodgins was right.

* * *

The next day, they met his parents. When Georgia introduced herself, Zack's entire family stared. Then laughed. Then finally cheered and congratulated him. Although they expressed their confusion as to how Zack was able to meet and seduce a woman who seemed so normal, they were as supportive and loving as always. His mother even cried.

And Zack knew, judging by the way that Georgia's smile never faded as they stood there with his extended family beyond the glass, that he and Georgia were going to make it.

Like Dr. Goodman had said, their relationship was strong enough to outlast every bad thing that was thrown their way.

But Zack never could have predicted the hardships that were to come.


End file.
